#I see you like drop the reverse pain uno card | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riathedreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Zero is Null

A discussion of Zero’s love-hate-relationship with RvB and struggling independence; including a hotdog too big for the bun, tragic backstories, a single bow-chicka-bow-wow, and a cookie at the very end.

Welcome to what will be a lot of text. Basically, it will explore why Zero fails as an RvB (with emphasis on RvB) season. I will not be the first one to bring forth some of the points, and I promise to be fair and civil and fun. This isn’t supposed to be a piece of hate – in fact, I’m writing this because I love Red vs. Blue.

Okay, first of all, to increase your fun – take a guess on just how much of Zero is spent on fight scenes. You see, I’ve calculated the exact amount, and I will reveal it later, but for now, take a guess and remember the number. Maybe you are the winner!

Alright, time to share my thoughts. Wait! Since I suffer from anxiety and have this one annoying voice pretending to be all those critical statements my opinion could be met with, let’s give it an actual voice and address the points throughout this review.

“Why would I care about your opinion, Ria?” – I don’t know, you’re the one who clicked Read More.

“Your opinion doesn’t matter!” – Of course, it doesn’t! Geez. Do you think your opinion matters, though? Listen, we’re on Tumblr, the actual equivalent of screaming into the void. And it’s fun, too!

“If you don’t like it, don’t watch!” - *activates Uno Reverse Card* “You can’t talk about something you haven’t watched!”

“You’re just a Hater” – Actually, this is a point I’ll come back to. Like a cliffhanger. Also, at the end of this, there’ll be a cookie. But this will also include me talking about the stuff I like, because, surprise, Zero is not without talent!

“You just don’t like it because the Reds and Blues aren’t in it!” – Actually, that’s a good point, so instead, this review will start with a sole focus on Zero and discuss the problem that lies within that story. Then we can address why the lack of OG cast is understandable and problematic and weird.

But first! Backstory.

When the first 5 second teaser dropped back in spring (you know, when we were young and innocent and the world didn’t feel like an apocalyptic movie yet), I held onto that one image of what I thought (hoped) to be Grif and Simmons in the sunset, hopefully addressing Grif’s hateglue arc, but boy was I wrong because a) that’s not Simmons, that’s Sarge, and b) the image was from a PSA since the Reds are not in Zero.

Actual face-reveal of me below:

Admittedly, when I heard that the Reds and Blues were not going to be the main characters (or even show up), it felt like a gut punch. However, I actually found myself getting excited due to the creators’ hype. I want to praise them for this. It’s been a while since an RvB season was talked so much ABOUT before its release; it had advertisements, it had creators and voice-actors talking about it. Please. More of that in the future. Their passion rubbed off on me, and that deserves recognition. So it pains me that this was clearly a passion-project, and then when I gave it a try, I didn’t want to touch it again for weeks.

Here’s the thing. I cannot whole-heartedly say that Zero is bad. It’s not gonna melt your eyes. It’s not even so-bad-it’s-good. For me, it’s meh. It’s a Saturday-morning-cartoon aimed for a younger audience with a rushed plot and clichéd characters. The problem is that it calls itself RvB, and with that title comes something to live up to – but more importantly, something to continue.

My main issue is that Zero forces its story into existence by ignoring established content rather than adjusting to it. Let’s call this for the hotdog-too-big-for-the-bun syndrome solely for the sake of the bow-chicka-bow-wow that’s coming now. Bow-chicka-bow-wow. Many of the separate issues I will dive into all add to this hotdog-issue, so I will scream “Hotdog!” whenever this is the case so we can all keep track of my argument.

You can continue the story of Red vs. Blue without the Reds and Blues. While that would personally crush my heart, it can be done. There’s a story of Red vs. Blue that can be continued. The world can be expanded, the previous actions of the Reds and Blues can be explored from another angle.

So.

How does Zero do this? It doesn’t.

I just want to make it clear that new elements can definitely be added when it comes to worldbuilding. That’s literally the point of sequels. But Zero’s settings are presented with so little grace and with no connection to previously established worldbuilding. We get Alliance of Defense and GLASS thrown in our face as very big important organizations – yet we’ve never heard of them before. A big central plot point of RvB is the UNSC and Project Freelancers, and those were introduced naturally with the plot. We already have big established intergalactic organizations. What is AOD’s connection with those? We aren’t told. We are just told they exist and expected to accept it, no questions asked. If this was a whole new world and story – fine. But when you need to build on an already established worldbuilding, you need more grace than this. Chorus was a whole new setting, but it was explained, and it was connected to the previous plot. Same with Iris. Same with Desert Gulch. In Zero, it feels lazy. It feels forced. These organizations are just there because the story is built around them (HOTDOG).

This vagueness when it comes to wordbuilding is also reflected in the settings - we have a desert, a training base, a lab, temples, Tucker’s workplace, and we do not know if all those are set place on the same planet. If that is the case, what is this planet’s relationship with Chorus? Is it Earth? And most importantly, what is the deal with the temples? Why are they connected to Tucker’s sword if it isn’t the same planet. Are they made by the same aliens? Are people okay with this? Why haven’t these temples been explored before? Chorus makes sure to establish this, while Zero doesn’t, adding to a growing amount of confusion.

Okay, so no connection with previous worldbuilding. What about characters? I mean, we got Wash and Carolina and Tucker! So we have RvB characters, it gotta be RvB! Technically – yeah. But it feels dirty. These three characters are not here to be characters. They are here to be props to the new cast. They are not given any development. Their presence isn’t even that important, and if this was a whole new show, they could easily have been replaced with an unknown face. Worst of all, they feel miswritten.

Carolina and Wash are working at a new military organization? Leaving the Reds and Blues behind? To help people? First of all, fucking bad idea, Carolina, the last time you left the Reds and Blues alone, they changed the timeline. But most importantly – Carolina and Wash just joined this new super elite military organization? After being mistreated and manipulated by such an organization in the past?

Carolina is there to introduce the characters. That’s it. We are force-fed their personality by having her literally read out loud their personality. There is no gentle introduction to the new cast. We are not allowed to get to know them naturally. Why show when you can tell, huh? That’s Carolina’s role. That’s why she is there. To introduce the cast and explain their story. That’s it. (HOTDOG).

How about Wash? He is there to get beat up and be a damsel in distress so that the new cast has a reason to explore the plot. Oh, and that brain damage that was the consequence of previous seasons – gone now. The guy who literally has trauma from having an AI explode inside his head is fine with having a computer inserted into it instead. Because that’s needed. To explore his brain damage wouldn’t work now when his role is to be a prop to lure the new cast for one episode and then be put onto the bench for the rest of the runtime (HOTDOG).

And Tucker – he is there to die for a second and have his sword taken from him. That’s literally it. And for the few moments he is there, he feels like old super flirty Tucker, which erases the character development he went through in previous seasons. Okay, so Tucker dies, and then not dies, and then he is put on the bench with Wash where they can sit and talk or whatever (‘cause holy shit, the new cast is not allowed to that), because he isn’t important. The sword is. Tucker is just a prop, even more than his sword is (HOTDOG).

Damn. Wash gets beat up. Tucker gets beat up. Dies. Gets his sword taken away. Almost seems like a Red’s wet dream. Sorry not sorry, Blues, you were done dirty.

So there are miswritten old characters. Even worse is the retconning. The plot needs a “normal” Wash, so, bam, magic computer solution. Never mind Wash’s trauma and character traits. Never mind the logic of the new worldbuilding which also includes a character suffering for years to heal an illness. But the brain damage that was such a big consequence that it became the main part of the plot of the last two seasons – gone. I mean, a gunshot to the head can be healed by CPR. That’s canon. But no one gave Wash CPR so it’s a big thing, okay. It was canonically a big thing, and Zero erased that. This is not me saying that a Cerebral Enhancer couldn’t work in the RvB universe. Imagine it being done right. Wash struggling with the choice of getting used to his disability or accepting the possibility of help - at the cost of reliving his trauma. The struggle between what to choose - what should he choose when he wants to help as many as possible, the sacrifices he thinks he has to make, the way it could have been used as a part of his character growth. But in Zero, the enhancer isn’t a part of Wash’s character. It’s there so the story can work without having to deal with the previous plot’s consequence (HOTDOG).

Same with the sword thing. They sorta explain it by having Tucker flatline, but it’s weak. Honestly, I find it sorta offensive. What about Locus’ sword as well? It’s twisting previous lore to make the new plot work (HOTDOG). (Also, are we not gonna talk about the ultimate power being Spencer Porkensenson’s helmet? Have the writers forgotten Spencer Porkensenson? Have we as a community forgotten Spencer Porkensenson?)

If you have Red vs. Blue in your title, you cannot ignore what you inherit from it. You need to respect the worldbuilding, the established characters, and the previous plot. Zero does not do this.

Let’s talk about the Triplets. No, really, let’s do it. I don’t think I’ve ever talked about them before, because season 14 was a mixed bag for me (that I have now learned to appreciate. Thank you, Zero.) because I have heart at the size of the Grinch and can only love a few characters at a time, and that did not include the Triplets. Can’t even remember their names. Well, I can, but I can’t for the love of me remember which state is which, and my tongue is twisted every time I try to say Ohio, Iowa, and Idaho, and I know it’s on purpose. I know it is. And it got me good. That being said, the fandom actually embraced them really, really well! Seriously, I’ve seen more content for the Triplets than for Zero as a whole.

Why talk about the Triplets? (Was Iowa the lesbian? Or was it Ohio? Fuck.) Because like Zero, they introduced new characters with a story of their own. The Reds and Blues didn’t play a role. But here’s what I feel like the Triplets got right. They didn’t change the settings to force their narrative. They used stuff already established (Project Freelancer), added their own story as a continuation of that. They even included old characters in the beginning (Wash and some other Freelancers) but it felt natural and it didn’t feel like it happened at the expense of the old characters. Wash’s writing felt natural, and his presence wasn’t needed to tell these new character’s stories. He wasn’t a prop to them. He was there to establish the setting and to establish the relationship with these new characters, and then he and the other familiar faces (helmets??) left, and we as the viewers were left with these new characters. And the new characters told their own story by themselves. It felt like, hey, here’s something you know – remember Mother of Invention, and remember Wash’ lower rank, but now, try to imagine being even lower rank than him, aren’t you curious about those fates? Now let’s hear their story! It was new, it was something else, but it didn’t wreck what came before it, and it stayed true to the classic vibes of RvB.

As I said before, the hotdog-issue is my biggest problem with Zero. It infuriates me. I will return to this. But there are more issues, even if we try to look past the title-related problems.

If we try to imagine Zero as its own story and universe (as it should be, in my opinion), it still earns the meh review from me.

These isolated issues include awkwardness, the writing, lack of self-awareness, and pacing. First of all, holy shit, this is a tell, don’t show. Nothing is subtle, nothing is allowed to develop. It’s like the show thinks you are six years old with an attention span of a goldfish. You are not just led by the hand – they have literally pulled off your arm by the end of the show. We are force-fed every bit of information, every bit of personality from these new characters.

The voice-acting is a mixed bag for me. Sometimes it’s pretty good, sometimes it’s not. Some of the problems can definitely be blamed on the dialogue that you can only do so much with. It’s not good. I can’t remember any good jokes (the one joke I really appreciate was the cast on armor, and that was freaking visual humor. That was so RvB. Kudos to that. It was fun. More of that, please.), and RvB is known for having memorably good lines. This is a show built on good, clever, funny dialogue. Zero does not deliver. You have to sit through clichéd lines – “You’re not my dad”, “I trusted you”, “Come with me”, “It can’t be!”, “She’s way too powerful”, and “We have to do this together” – performed unironically. I cringed more than I laughed. Worst thing is that Zero could be a good parody. Sometimes, it feels like it is. One-dimensional characters, a villain wanting ‘the ultimate power’, very overpowered characters, bad one-liners, etc. But Zero takes itself seriously, and I was one of the people rooting for Jax to show up at the end and yell “Cut”. That would have been a funny-as-fuck twist. A spin-off parody. If I can’t have “Sarge the Movie”, I would have taken that and loved it. I would have forgiven everything. “We put so much info into finding that power, but we had no idea what it was” is really a line in the finale, and I cannot believe this is real in a show that somehow still tries to present itself as serious. What a plot.

We have to talk about pacing. God, first of all it should be stated that RvB is a mess when it comes to pacing. I honestly get what they were going for. Sometimes, RvB has come across as a bit boring when you get three episodes stretched over three weeks without much going on. I know season 11 did not have the warmest welcome because it was seen as boring until the finale. But when you see season 11 as a whole, as a movie, as a part of a trilogy, it works so well. Zero is more focused on being episodic. They want something to happen all the time so we will stay tuned. The thing that will happen – a fight. Oh god. The fight scenes.

I have done the math. I have run the numbers. I deserve a freaking cookie for this. Are you ready?

If you put all the episodes together, you have a runtime of 106 minutes. HOWEVER, with the introduction of credits in every episode, you gotta account for this. Removing the credits, this gives us 94 minutes of actual runtime. Out of that, 45 minutes are dedicated to fight scenes. That means 48% of the show is fight scenes.

If I wanted that many fight scenes, I’d watch Death Battle. Except the actual RvB Death Battle episode has a runtime of 20 minutes, and out of that, 5 minutes is dedicated to the actual battle. For the people who hate math – that’s 25% of the actual runtime.

RvB Zero has more fight scenes than a show called Death Battle. Take that in.

The pace suffers from this. Where’s the time to explore the characters? Where’s the time for good dialogue? All I can think of is this:

I get that RvB is a show that’s literally making fun of itself by acknowledging all their characters do is stand around and talk. I get that you want characters to do more than that. But for the love of Church, would it kill the new characters to stand around and talk? For just a minute? Stop fighting, I am begging you, stop fighting! Am I a pacifist now? Am I purple? Have I joined Doc’s team? What has Zero done to me?!

The good thing though is that fight scenes are very good. They’re entertaining. However, they seem to deconstruct themselves when we need to get a fight scene in every episode. Usually, the few fight scenes in an RvB season were in some of the most climatic episodes. In Zero, I can hardly keep up with the pace because they won’t stop moving. Fight scenes aren’t plot. They aren’t character development. You need more than just fight scenes. They entertain, but there’s a limit to that.

Noël Wiggins, the co-writer, stated the inspiration was a Saturday-morning cartoon. They nailed that vibe. If that was their goal, hurray, they have accomplished something! Because of the poor plot and constant fight scenes, it feels like you could just switch on the TV and drop in at any moment and let yourself be entertained by the cool and colorful soldiers punching and kicking each other. I will admit that the fight scenes entertained me. But they don’t make it a good season.

If I were the six-year-old with the attention span of a goldfish that the show believes I am, I honestly would enjoy it. The stiff dialogue and the constant tell-don’t-show makes you feel like an audience that’s not supposed to do anything else but admire the flashy fight scenes. I miss the cleverness of RvB. I miss the characters I get to connect with as I see them grow.

I miss the tone of RvB. Because this isn’t RvB to me.

It’s not that RvB hasn’t changed its tone before. Holy shit, I sorta do want to experience the absolute shock the RvB fandom went through when s6 aired and they were given new characters and serious plot. I would have loved to experience that, but I was too busy being ten years old. The Freelancers seasons also introduced a new tone and more fight scenes with very talented fighters compared to the Blood Gulch gang, but a balance was kept by having half of the season still revolving around the Reds and Blues. But Zero – Zero is so much change. And it’s on purpose. At least this has been made very clear from the beginning.

They constantly seem to appeal to new fans, rather than be directed towards older fans of the show. If you want an entirely new audience with a season with a new cast, new worldbuilding, and new tone, I’m confused as to why they don’t just make a new show. The hotdog-problem begs for this solution. This story and environment and characters feel so out of touch with the original RvB, that with a few rewrites and lack of Halo-armor, it could just be a new show. Problem solved.

If not this, then present it as a spin-off. In all ways, it feels like a spin-off (again, see everything marked HOTDOG). But the creators refuse to do this, and I don’t understand why. I could forgive many of these issues, had they officially separated themselves from canon.

Ah, what’s the idiom? You can’t both swallow and blow? (You can hear the Bow-chicka-bow-wow in the distance). Something about eating cake and having it. Forgive me, English isn’t my native language. POINT IS why are you calling yourself RvB while actively fighting against the core essence of RvB? In my humble opinion, you can’t be both. Marketing it as a spin-off would have granted it some defense when changing, well, literally everything, and I just, would someone please properly describe why it isn’t a spin-off? Isn’t this season marked by its association with the plot of RvB rather than a continuation of it? Zero presenting itself as not a spinoff feels like a toddler clinging to the hem of its mother’s dress while forcefully running away from her, ripping the dress in the process.

When they do connect with the original RvB, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. When they let Carolina, Wash, and Tucker appear for a moment, it feels like luring viewers in with the RvB title. Look at me. Look at me! I’m not saying this is the case. I say that it gives me the annoying vibes of being lured, rather than letting the characters be a part of the show for their own development, rather than having RvB in the title to continue its story. I should not be getting these vibes at all. But I am.

If you want to use RvB in the title, something from the core of RvB needs to be embraced. Things can be changed. They should. Something new should be brought in. But there’s a limit to how much you can change and replace and twist until it would have been better with an original show. As a season of RvB, it should tell the story of Red vs. Blue.

From my perspective, Zero fails to do so.

It pains me that the old cast has been replaced, but as stated earlier, a season could have worked without them. However, I do not like the take that one should be excited about all the new characters. That it isn’t a big thing that the OG cast got replaced. That we should just deal with it. Just, try to imagine another show suddenly replacing the main characters with characters we’ve never met before. Imagine RWBY suddenly only focusing on a new team of huntresses with the previous main characters reduced to an Easter Egg presence, or Camp Camp suddenly being about a new team of campers, no warning given. Can you imagine the outcry? So maybe let’s agree that a replacement of the main cast is a big thing and should be addressed and it’s valid to be upset about this change.

Could Zero have worked? It’s hard to answer this. How can I accept something as RvB if the season actively pushes away the core of RvB aside for an isolated story that could have been told in any other media? As a spinoff, I could have ignored it. To enjoy Zero, I have to fully separate it from RvB in my mind, and then it’s alright. S’not good. But it’s not bad. It’s entertaining enough. I really ended up liking Raymond and Tiny, and there were a few good jokes, and the fight scenes were admirable (but too much) and I love the creators’ passion. But it’s not RvB. I also wish that the new characters had been attached to previous worldbuilding, for example soldiers on Chorus or agents from Project Freelancer. That way we could build on familiar lore which would have decreased the confusion and added a much needed connection with the previous seasons of RvB.

God, the anxious voice is back (by the way, it sounds like Tutter from “Bear in the Blue House”).

“You’re racist” – I hope not. Literally, I do not want to be. Tell me if I’ve ever crossed some lines, because I swear, that is not my intention, I will apologize and most of all, change and do better. I included this because I’ve seen this take thrown around in the big ugly mess that is the fandom clashes regarding Zero. And racism is problem within RT community (this includes AH and RvB, sorry, I just use RT as an umbrella term for the latter), and I’m not saying it hasn’t been a problem with this season. Writers should never be harassed, and never-fucking-ever because of their skin color, and voice actors shouldn’t be treated like they are responsible for the choices of the show. But I was legit nervous to post this review, and I hope it’s been factual without feeling like personal attacks on the creators because that has never been my intention. I was delighted to hear about the diversity behind this project, and Torrian’s passion legit blew me away because it’s been a while since I’ve seen that for an RvB project. I’d hoped for it to be good, and when I feel disappointed, it’s for the reasons stated in this analysis. That said, Zero is made by a diverse cast and it’s made with love, and both of those things are so, so great, but it does not mean that Zero cannot be criticized. It can, and it should. It’s a product, just like all the other seasons, and fans are allowed to discuss it – both what they loved, and both what they found troublesome. And to repeat previous points, and be respectful, always, fuck racists, and never-fucking-ever harass the staff behind a season, what the fuck is wrong with you if you do this.

“Don’t you get it, it’s different because it’s trying something new!” – Hey, remember the philosophical question: if you replace all the parts of a ship one-by-one, is it still the same ship when you’re done? If it doesn’t include the Reds and Blues, if it ignores previous plot, if the old characters feel miswritten, if it values animation over dialogue, if it values fight scenes over comedy, if it wants to be Fast and Furious instead of Red vs. Blue – is it still Red vs. Blue? Because it doesn’t feel like it to me.

“It's been 17 seasons, it’s time to let the Reds and Blues go so someone else can shine!” – I simply do not understand us having been with the Reds and Blues for 17 seasons should be an argument to let them go, rather than be an argument as to why their absence hurt like hell.

“The Reds and Blues ran out of things to do!” – Did- did they, though? I mean, if we were discussing pretty much any other show, I’d probably agree that they were running out of content. But for the Reds and Blues… I think the PSAs nailed it this year! I’m not kidding, I had more fun watching the Reds and Blues discuss how to do laundry than watching Zero. You could literally give me an hour of the Reds and Blues trying to bake a cake or clear a gutter or simply settling down with an ordinary life, and I would trust them to make it worth the watch.

“The flaws were due to the fact it’s only 8 episodes long!” – Look, I can only judge a product the way it’s presented to me. I cannot come up with excuses for it. If they had 8 episodes to work with, they need to come up with a plot that works with this runtime. Seriously, this excuse cannot work when 48% of the season is spent on fight scenes. They could have used more runtime, sure, but the show needs to be able to pace itself and be planned accordingly.

“The OG cast couldn’t be a part of this year, hence Zero!” – That might be true. But. Would one year without RvB kill it? Is Zero necessary? Again, I just can’t judge excuses for the show. But trouble with the cast has been an issue before. Season 15 solves Geoff’s sabbatical by actually making Grif’s absence a part of the plot. Zero’s lack of Reds and Blues just feels like this excuse to tell a story that needn’t be a part of RvB.

Am I a hater? I guess? I greatly dislike Zero for the critique stated above. I do, however, not harass the creators and no one should ever do that. However, I have to admit that I feel there’s been this weird rejection of any critique of Zero where everything’s been brushed off as haters gonna hate, including the critique stated above. And I think that’s a problem because critique, as hard as it can be to hear (and I know this. I’m an author of original works. Weird flex, I know), is valid and necessary and shouldn’t just be shrugged away. As always, both sides of the fandom should always be respectful, but my own opinion is that addressing the flaws of Zero should not be controversial.

Does this super long rant/critique/whatever mean you cannot enjoy Zero? Gods no! I almost envy you if you enjoy this season, but holy shit, feel free to love it and tell the creators that you love it! Me pointing out the issues I have with the season shouldn’t be stopping you. I loved (and still love) s15 when it came out, and it was majorly rejected by the fandom. There were many, many critical posts, people were going on about how RvB should have ended with s13, and it evolved into the writer receiving death threats (me, once again: never ever harass the creators, assholes). But I didn’t tell people to stop being negative. I actually agreed with many of the flaws that were pointed out, and I enjoyed the season despite this, because that is possible. We, as RvB fans, should agree that RvB, is... I mean, it’s not the greatest, most flawless of shows, but we love it nonetheless. So go ahead and love Zero. This is not a stop sign. This is my opinion that you chose to read.

Wait, I promised you a cookie, didn’t I? Well, you’re not getting one. Why? Because I’m a Red and this is my chance to piss off a Blue. As Caboose wisely said: “Well, at least I don't go around... knocking on people's non-doors... and promising them cookies... and then NOT. GIVING. THEM. COOKIES!”

Blue Team sucks.

End speech.

#rvb zero #rvb #rvb zero critical #rvb critical #rvb0 #my rvb stuff #pls dont hate me for this #this is my honest opinion that people apparantly wanted to hear #as a standalone story zero isnt totally bad #as an rvb season it is

274 notes · View notes

youarejesting · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Seoul mates: Dulcet Couple.5

[MASTERLIST]

Beta: @xiaokoo Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Romance, comedy, angst, fluff, soulmate au Words: 1.1k

Summary: You were connect through music. Yoongi a member of BTS and a music producer was having trouble concentrating. If he sang baby shark one more time he would pour hot coffee over his computer and give up his career to hunt you down personally.

You were happy to see the bags under Aster’s eyes had faded a little and you were also surprised to see Alexa standing in the entrance with Adora. The two were wearing masks, “You can’t leave for two weeks due to quarantine but after that, you should be free to visit the town. Just remember to wear your masks girls.” Adora said with a sweet reprimanding tone.

Adora waved goodbye saying she would come around one afternoon to have tea, before heading back out into the corridor.

It was kind of funny how silent it was, it must have really sucked being the last soulmate to join the house so you took it upon yourself to make Alexa feel at home.

“Since Alexa is the last one to join the house it must feel a bit intimidating or exclusive so let’s all try to be nice and accommodating to her. I know I would feel odd being last, so I will give Alexa the tour of the house. How about you all prepare some snacks and drinks and maybe we can sit and get to know one another?” You gave out some jobs and realised you probably should check in with Alexa, “Unless you would like some time to freshen up or rest?”

“Uh, I am a bit jet lagged but I would like to hole out until it’s night time to go to sleep try to assimilate this new sleep schedule” Alexa gave a bright grin as she looked around, “This place is really pretty, I would love a tour?”

“Sweet, this way we will show you to your new bedroom.” you smiled, leading her through the house and explaining the rooming situation. “We thought you would like your own room, so we gave you Imogen’s old room.”

“Thank you, you didn’t have to. I don’t mind and I don’t want to burden anyone by being here,” Alexa moved with certainty. She was poised unlike her clumsy counterpart and reminded them of a really tan vampire. Her dark hair and eyes were sultry. She felt like someone tough who could protect you.

The tour ended with Alexa unpacking and handing out a few gifts to the girls, some got bath bombs others received scented candles. She had given Aster a weighted blanket that she said might help her fall asleep when she was on her own. “Wait we didn’t get you a gift?” Aster said a little disappointed, Aster loved giving gifts more than she received them. You believed giving gifts was how Aster showed her love, but how she received it was almost identical to Jimin receiving praise. Yoongi also liked words of praise even if he didn’t admit it but he prefered to show you how much he loved you from acts of service. Getting things you need and being there to help with jobs. He liked to be a silent helper, not to draw too much attention to himself.

“That’s okay, it is my culture to give gifts when meeting your inlaws and well I consider you part of Namjoon’s family” Alexa smiled, the group sat in the lounge room talking and eating snacks. It started to rain late into the afternoon and as the evening drew near the power went out.

“We could play a game.”

“Sure what game?”

“Monopoly?”

“No to high stress.”

“What about scrabble?”

“It’s in Korean.”

“Yeah scratch that.”

“Hmm, we could play bts uno?” Imogen laughed, cutting through the chaos by holding up the pack of cards and searching everyone’s faces for confirmation.

“Sure,” everyone seemed to agree. It didn’t take long for you all to grow comfortable with one another. The sound of someone's stomach growling caught your attention, “we should make dinner,” Thank gosh the portable gas stove was stored in the cupboard. Lighting candles around the room, you began preparing some ramen for everyone to enjoy.

They all seemed to grow more excited as the aroma of the noodles filled the room, carrying the pot over and placing it on the pot cloth to protect the wood you each began eating, their fill.

The sound of keys jingling in the door across the hall alerted them to the boys finally returning home, there was a knock and beau rushed to the door and opened it.

“Welcome back!” She chimed and Taehyung was quick to enter smelling the ramen and sitting behind Iris and stealing some of her noodles.

“They were mine, and you didn’t even say hi to me.” She pouted.

“I am sorry my love, I saw you were eating ramen and I was so hungry,” Taehyung apologised pulling her into his lap, squeezing her tightly.

“Next time I will eat with my eyes closed and then you won’t see anything,” she said closing her eyes “what do you see now huh?”

“I see the most beautiful girl in my world, the love of my life,” he kissed Iris’ lips.

You got up abandoning the noodles and heading to the boys dorm where Yoongi was dropping his things off in his room. He knew it would be loud in the other dorm so preferred to stay clear of the noise. Leaning your head against the open door you watched him unpack.

“How was the performance?” You asked curiously watching him stretch his shoulders.

“Tiring,” he slumped on the bed. You crawled behind him and began gently massaging his shoulder trying to relieve the pain.

“You need to get this shoulder looked at Yoongi it is causing you so much pain” you spoke softly, it hurt to see your soulmate in pain it became your own pain but worse because you couldn’t ease it you couldn’t take the pain from him, you just had to watch him suffer.

“Just lay with me for a little bit,” Yoongi smiled, laying back and holding you. It was sweet feeling his hand on your waist and his breath against your cheek, it was a little laboured but each exhale came out softer until he had finally relaxed in your arms. “You smell like ramen.”

It made you laugh, but you let him drift off in your arms inhaling the faint ramen seasoning scent of your skin. There was a faint song in your head unlike any you had heard. It didn’t really have a melody, just an odd lyric. ‘She makes me laugh and smile for no reason, she holds me close smelling of ramen season’ It was cute how snuggly he got, almost making you forget everything, but there was still a part of you that wondered what the others were up to.

These thoughts don’t last long as you start to drift off with Yoongi lying against you, your last thought is trying to heal his soul. Being close to your soulmate does wonders for your health but you doubted it could reverse the damage inflicted on his shoulder.

How can I save this to read later?

Follow and turn on notifications so you never miss an update

Add your name to a tag list [HERE]

Reblog this post with the hashtag #BTSMates

Or you can like this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

54 notes · View notes

gamequeenanya · 4 years ago

Text

Prinxiety - Purple is More Regal

Rating: T

Summary: When Roman tries to give up his crown, Virgil has to convince him that he's enough. (Human AU)

Warning: Inspired by ANGST fics! Roman angst w/ a happy ending. / trans!Virgil / self harm implications / depressed Roman / implied U!Remus / somewhat intimate prinxiety? but it's playful

Two men were sitting on a bed in Roman's room. It was grand, with fancy red curtains adorning it. The pillows were feather soft, with a hand stitched R pattern. Silence permeated through the air.

"Purple is a royal colour, you know."

Roman's voice had startled Virgil, and he looked up. The man smiled sadly.

"Huh?" Virgil said. Roman seemed broken, his eyes trying desperately to show some happiness. He inched towards Virgil on the bed. When he was close enough, he took off his crown and dropped it in front of him.

Virgil looked up in shock.

"This is for you," Roman shook his head. "I don't deserve it anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Roman turned around, fighting back tears. Virgil came closer, tentatively offering his hand if Roman wanted it. The man held it.

Virgil could tell he was stressed. He massaged Roman's newly bandaged wrist lightly, and brought it up to his lips. The gentle affection made Roman smile.

His wrist had been bandaged just hours before. He'd told Virgil he'd accidentally cut himself on glass. But Virgil knew the truth. The man had run for the bathroom and had a breakdown. He'd heard his heart wrenching sobs. The only thing stopping him from offering comfort was the fact that it would hurt Roman's pride more. So he'd waited until the man recovered.

Now seeing how broken the man was, Virgil wondered if he'd made the right choice.

Virgil moved to hug Roman, his thin, small frame supporting Roman's larger, muscular one. The man hummed gratefully, wrapping his arms around Virgil too. It was wonderful, until Virgil felt a pinching pain in his chest. He winced.

"What is it?" Roman said. Virgil groaned.

"Ugh, I wore my binder too long."

"Alright, I won't look!" Roman said, turning away so as to give him privacy. Virgil took his shirt off and then his binder, tossing it to the side. He slipped his shirt back on.

"'Kay, you can look now."

Turning around, Roman saw Virgil smile up at him. His heart beat faster in his chest and filled him with bliss. Roman wrapped his arms around him and stroked his back. Virgil purred like a cat. He smoothed his fingers through his hair.

Lifting the back of his shirt up, Virgil traced his lower back. Roman stiffened for a second. He stopped.

"A little higher," Roman muttered. He didn't like how that spot still gave him pain flare ups. Virgil did so, moving up, past the "I love you, Virgil" tattoo with the heart and bat wings above it and a rose bush of thorns below it. He traced his mid back now, tickling the red dragon tattoo he'd gotten there. Roman giggled.

Virgil could feel his heart melt. How could anyone abuse this man? He felt rage build up inside him as well, thinking of how Remus had treated him; cutting his skin and calling him worthless.

He continued tracing his upper back, hoping to distract Roman from his sadness. There was a fire and sword tattoo, and next to it a smiling Sheltie, one of Roman's favourite dogs.

The man hummed in satisfaction.

That was good. Virgil thought. He'd waited for this moment for so long. Remus had convinced Roman that he was unlovable, and it took a lot of therapy to undo the damage. Virgil had confessed to him that he liked him as soon as Roman was in a proper mental state to give an honest answer. He'd cried tears of joy and embraced him.

"I love you," Virgil muttered into his neck.

Roman couldn't help giggle and turtle. He lightly pushed him away. Smiling, he said, "I love you too!"

With his hands still lazily clawing at his back, Roman decided to return the favour. Lightly massaging Virgil's lower back, he hummed.

A tattoo was there that said "I love you Roman," with a similar design to his boyfriend's, except his heart and rosebush roses were purple. Scritching up to his middle back he jokingly petted Virgil's cat tattoo. Unlike Roman's tattoos, these didn't cover abuse scars. But they were gotten out of solidarity. He moved ever upward, stroking the bat, pumpkin, ghost, and even the scary spider tattoo.

Virgil leaned in to kiss him. Roman accepted, stroking his hair and kissing back.

Opening his eyes slightly, Virgil spotted the crown still on the bed. It was looking a little lonely, he thought. So, picking the crown up, Virgil placed it onto Roman's head. They parted their kiss, and Roman reached up to feel the crown, confused.

"You really think I am worthy...?"

Virgil nodded.

"But I'm so stupid..." he muttered. Virgil clenched his fists in rage.

"Screw the school system! And screw Remus!" Virgil said, growling. At seeing Roman’s startled expression, he looked guilty. He spoke softer. "You're so intelligent, Ro. Do you think I could ever write a screenplay? I'd have a panic attack just trying to get the formatting right! And your acting? Some people sound like cardboard cutouts, but you make it real." He looked at him with mixed emotions in his eyes.

"That's the trick," Roman muttered. "You have to become the character, and genuinely feel what they're feeling."

Virgil's eyes brightened. "And that's what I mean! Don't ever let anyone tell you you're unworthy because their analysis of you is flawed!"

Roman looked back at him and nodded slowly. Virgil stroked his hair.

"I love you, and you are good enough, understand?"

Roman chuckled lightly. He felt the crown on his head, still unsure. But Virgil's words did make him feel better.

Virgil picked up a notebook from the desk.

"Here, you can write something if you want. If it's important, I can proofread it for you."

"Alright." Roman said, picking up the notebook and a pen. He thought a while, glancing to the side, and at Virgil.

It was tough knowing he'd be scrutinized. But also he knew Virgil would never criticize his vision, just circle errors he wouldn't have noticed himself. They'd agreed upon the sorts of things Roman wanted criticized when Virgil become his beta reader. As silly as some of the ideas were, Virgil trusted that Roman knew what he was doing. Sometimes one's vision doesn't become clear until the end of the story, after all.

He wrote until his idea faded, and he put his pen down.

"Want me to see?" Virgil said. Roman shook his head.

"It's not ready yet."

Virgil nodded, understanding. He simply let Roman sit there and decide what to do next.

Roman looked down at him curiously. "Would you like to switch clothing?"

"Huh?" Virgil looked confused. "Uhh, sure."

He didn't know what his idea was, but let Roman borrow his jacket. The other man turned around, dug through his drawer, and gave him a spare Prince outfit. Virgil smiled, putting it on. He had to admit, he felt good like this.

Roman, on the other hand, looked in a mirror and sighed.

"You know, you're right-" Virgil said, cutting in before he could say something self deprecating. "Purple is a royal colour. You look good in it."

Roman smiled. "And you look amazing as a prince."

"Hey," Virgil said playfully, standing next to him. "I never said I wouldn't wear a crown."

Taking the crown off his head, Roman placed it on Virgil's. Immediately, Virgil took it off and gave it back.

"No, not your crown. A crown. So we can be husbands."

"Alright, my prince," Roman chuckled.

((3 days later))

Virgil would have been pleased with a printed paper crown. But Roman had to go all out, commissioning an actual blacksmith. After it was made, he paid the man and accepted the crown. He'd placed the crown in a box, wrapped it with Disney’s Frozen wrapping paper, and tied it with a bow on top.

When Virgil had opened the box, he gasped.

"Roman, you shouldn't have!"

He placed it on his head, finding it the perfect size. Smiling at Roman in awe, he asked him how he could ever think he'd be worthy of such a gift.

"You're my prince, and you are worthy. You are kind, supportive, and you make me happy."

Virgil blushed for the first time in a long time. "Wha...? No, you!"

Roman laughed, enjoying the cute expression on his face. He pulled out an Uno Reverse card.

"This isn't fair, Roman. I'm supposed to be the one cheering you up!"

"Life isn't fair, dear." He leaned in to gently kiss his forehead.

"Whatever."

Roman gently tickled his sides, making him giggle.

Instead of pushing him away though, Virgil pulled his hands away, but leaned closer to his torso.

"How did I ever end up with someone like you?" Roman said with a smile.

"Hey," Virgil said with a leftover giggle. "I've got five more reverse cards, and I'm not afraid to use them!"

Roman accepted his fate, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

It was so funny, he was always striving so hard for perfection that he didn't stop to think that he might be enough for someone... until now.

#sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fanfiction #my fanfics #angst #hurt/comfort #u!remus

38 notes · View notes

grimoire-of-seven · 5 years ago

Note

I have a crush on you

PROMPT :: “I have a crush on you..”

Rating: SFW

Words: 350-450 per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC/Gender-Neutral Reader

Note: Thank you for the request! Although you didn’t specify which character, I took it upon myself to write for all of the demon brothers! It’s a little long so please continue reading under the cut!

LUCIFER

You stood your ground before him, eyes determined to express all these pent up emotions into words. When you arrived at the student council office, Lucifer was busy with several of the student council papers but insisted that he is listening to you.

“Lucifer,” You called out to the black-haired demon infront of you, hands clutching your Devildom Law book for courage, “I have a crush on you.”

“Hmm, yes,” He nodded his head almost automatically, his focus towards the papers unwavering, “You can put your term paper draft on my desk. I shall attend to that shortly after I finish this–”

“I said, ‘I have a crush on you’, Lucifer.” You repeated with a louder and much more resolute voice.

With that, his hands stopped mid-way through putting down one of the stacks. He directed his attention towards you, there was no semblance of an expression in his visage aside from its usual stoicism.

After that one second of shock, Lucifer then smiled at you with… was that pity or sadness in his– “…take that away.”

You gasped his statement, appalled that he dares to tell you how to deal with your feelings. You finally gathered the courage to tell him and he’s telling you to ‘take it away’?!

Within an instant, you made your way to his table and slammed your hand at his desk, “Now, listen here, you little shi–”

Wha-?!

He pulled your necktie with enough force that had you reeling towards him, the tips of your noses barely missing a millimeter.

“I’m just teasing.” He chuckled in delight, those piercing dark eyes staring at yours with such intensity that made your knees weak like jelly. “Time and time again, you amaze me with your honesty.”

Goosebumps trailed your arms as Lucifer’s hand caressed your cheek delicately. If he comes any closer, you’re most certain that he’ll hear the embarrassingly fast beating of your heart. “I like that.”

MAMMON

“Plus four!” Mammon exclaimed in glee, slamming the card in the low coffee table. Before reaching to the deck for four more cards, the white-haired demon stopped you in your tracks and placed yet another identical card, “Another plus four! I change the cards to blue!”

“You can’t stack plus four cards! UNO tweeted that before–”

“We’re using local rules here, dummy, get with the program!” He smugly replied, smirking at you as you reach for eight cards. “Taste my reverse card!”

“Yikes,” You sighed at his beaming energy of mischief, placing a blue card down, “You sure play dirty…”

“I get to ask ya one truth or a dare if I win!” Mammon nodded eagerly at your words as if it’s a compliment to him. He removed another blue card from his deck and exclaimed, “UNO!”

“Greedy… you’re too greedy for victory.” You changed the colour of the cards to yellow in high hopes that his last card isn’t the same.

Please don’t be yellow–

“Got’cha!” Damn.

“Truth or dare?” He asked excitedly with the energy of a toddler on a sugar-high.

He would definitely ask something very private and embarrassing if you chose truth, given that he’s animatedly eager to get you to lose this round. With that in mind, you chose the lesser evil, “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell the truth!”

This stupid idiot… You sighed and nodded, “Fine. But give me the cards, I’ll shuffle it this time.”

“Who are you interested among the seven of us brothers?”

Ah, so that’s what this is. You chuckled, his earlier demeanor making much more sense with his ‘dare’. “No wonder you’re pumped up when I said we should higher the stakes.”

“Ya didn’t wanna bet money!”

“It’s an UNO game, man.”

“So, who is it?” He asked, leaning back to his sofa with crossed-arms as he waited for you to hand him his set of cards, “Maybe if you slide in some cash, I can help you get–”

“He’s quite cute.” You began, taking a card as a starter and waiting for Mammon to put down his first.

“Oh? So that counts out Asmo since he’d beautiful!”

“He makes me laugh a lot.” You smiled, “Reverse card, reverse card, plus four, change colour to yellow.”

“GAH! I don’t have any yellow!!!” Mammon twisted from his seat at the realization of his misfortune, seeing that you only have three cards remaining in your hand. “That can’t be Levi or Lucifer or Satan! Those guys would choke if they’re asked to share a joke. So, it’s either Beel or Belphie, huh!”

You shook your head at his words, placing down another card, “I have a crush on you, Mammon.”

“Wh–” He looked up at you with wide-eyes, “No! Q-Quit playin’ dirty! I ain’t fallin’ for that.”

“Reverse card, UNO,” You stared back at him, eyes never leaving his as you placed your last cards, “I win.”

LEVIATHAN

What does Ruri-chan have that you don’t?

Dejectedly wiping the said figurine with a damp towel, you asked that question to yourself.

You were summoned at Levi’s room earlier that day for some ‘important friend training’ to be facilitated by the purple-haired demon himself… only to find out that he’s cleaning his figures and needed a few more hands on deck.

Why does he like Ruri-chan so much? She’s a fictional character, for god’s sake!

“Hey, Levi,” You started, looking up from your task, “If I say I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

The man in question stared at you for a moment before erupting into a boisterous laughter. “LMFAO,” he spelled in glee, hands waving off your statement as if it’s a mere jest, “That’s the funniest joke I have ever heard from you in a long while lolol.”

“Take this seriously, Levi!” You wrung the damp towel in annoyance and weaponized it against your companion, hitting him by the leg with enough force to have him yelp in pain.

“OW, TF you doing? That hurts!” He rubbed his leg in attempt to stave off the stinging feeling, only to realize your reaction to his answer, “Wait, that wasn’t a joke?”

“Do I look like-?!”

“WTF!? That’s a horrible decision!” Levi exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes scanning your expression for some sort of… mischief in your eyes or a slightly wolfish grin.

But all he saw was that you were genuinely serious - about him and your feelings for him.

“Why?” He breathed out the question, his head thinking of the times when you must’ve raised his intimacy close enough for you to drop that confession bomb on him, “Compared to Lucifer and Asmo, I’m not even the most handsome or popular character in this–”

“We’re not in a game.”

Levi went silent at your words.

Have you done it? Is this finally friendship over?

Panic began rising up your chest as he sat still, unmoving from his position. Before you can speak, he looked at you with a hopeful spark in his expression, “Then… does that mean I can like the main character, too?”

SATAN

Satan had offered to walk home with you together after hearing that Solomon is graciously tutoring you for certain RAD subjects – those that doesn’t exist in the human world. The blonde demon insisted that he doesn’t mind waiting for you given that there are still some things he has to do for the student council.

‘It sounds like an after-school date’, Solomon grinned at you before leaving. You swear, he’s got some sort of voodoo magic radar for your emotions.

Removing the thought of Solomon’s jests before you blush too hard, you thought of confessing to Satan before a certain someone runs his mouth about it. Should you…?

Yeah, it’s better to hear it from you than someone else – namely Solomon.

“Hey, Satan, I have a crush on you.” You told him, as casually as you can without breaking voice.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with disbelief. Satan opened his mouth to speak but stopped, taking a moment to think about his words, then simply asked, “Why…?”

Eh? “W-What do you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t really answer that. You’ve asked yourself a hundred times why you fell for a demon, the actual personification of Wrath itself, yet you can’t seem to find an answer for yourself. At least, you had no answers aside from… “I just really like you, Satan.”

He continued walking, you can feel the gears of his head turning as he oversees the situation in its logical perspective, “I’m a demon and you’re a human, need I remind you?”

That felt a pang on your chest, hearing him say it even though you are well aware of the fact.

Taking a deep breath to muster up the courage, you asked him for his final verdict, “So, you’re saying you don’t like me back?”

“Yes–!” He answered automatically, but then almost immediately denied, “Well, no.”

Huh. That’s quite confusing.

“I like you, too,” Satan smiled at you for a moment, “But things will be complicated if we think about this logically.”

Scratching the back of your head at his words, you couldn’t help yourself in saying, “When did love become a logical thing, though?”

He blushed at your words, hastening his walking speed to stop you from further seeing his reddened face, “S-Stop being too c-cute! I’m not lending you any more romance novels if you keep being so adorable!”

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus held your hand as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. With great precision, he coated your nails with an even layer of nail polish to match his wonderfully manicured ones.

People adore Asmodeus’ natural charm. What can you say? He’s absolutely flawless and drop-dead gorgeous.

Just thinking about the way his eyes sparkle at the news of Jeffrey Star’s new palette collection. The way he speaks excitedly whenever Prada presents their new line of designer bags. Hell, even talking about hand cream is a treat in itself whenever Asmodeus does it.

Look at you, absolutely whipped for this man and his undeniable charm.

He insists that you’re immune to his beauty yet you’re still attracted to him. It’s unfair to be this handsomely beautiful.

“Asmo, I think I have a crush on you.” You spouted out randomly, feeling his soft warm hands against yours.

“Of course, you do~” He replies as a matter-of-factly, “Everyone lusts over my magnificent–”

“I’m serious, Asmo.” You cut him off from his usual sugar-sweet line, “I like you.”

“Alright, humour me, love,” He put aside the nail polish and intertwined his hands in yours, his face closing towards yours dangerously, “If I accept your confession and we become a couple, what would you like to do with me…?”

With heated cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but he sensually placed an index finger by your lips, he whispered with that hedonistic tone of his, “In private, that is…”

In private?! Gosh, he’s asking for a lot!

Suddenly feeling parched, you gulp at the thought of what you wanted out of him if he ever accepts you as a partner. Eyes flitting anywhere except towards his, you tried your best to hold your trembling body before him - backing down now might show your lack of conviction towards him, after all.

You mumbled softly, hoping that he can hear you through your closeness, “…ds with you.”

“Tsk tsk,” The peach-haired demon grinned as he clicked his tongue, “I can’t hear you with such a silent voice. You can do better than that~”

“M-Maybe hold h-hands with you… or c-cuddle if y-you want.” You repeated a bit more audibly, your blush deepening by the second, “I-It’d be fun to go o-on a café w-with just the two of us, too.”

“KYAAA~! That’s so wholesome and adorable!!!” Asmodeus squealed in delight at your answer, throwing himself at you in a tight embrace, “Alright, I’ll be your boyfriend and we’ll do all those together~! This is so exciting!”

“No!!! Asmo, my nails!”

BEELZEBUB

From whatever ‘reliable’ and expensive source you’ve heard [definitely not Mammon], Beel apparently loves a certain sandwich menu from Hell’s Kitchen. Unfamiliar with Devildom’s cuisine and Hell’s Kitchen’s menu, you were faced with a dilemma.

The question would be… which one of the three sandwiches in the menu he likes most?

This frustrating situation made you want to curse Mammon for scamming your 100Grimm with this useless piece of information. Sighing at the thought of having to buy all three just for good measure, you saw the Avatar of Gluttony himself walking pass the restaurant.

“Beel!” You exclaimed to get his attention, waving at the tall ginger-haired demon as he looked towards your general direction, “I have a question for you!”

He greeted you with that heart-melting smile of his, eager to answer any inquiries from you. You whisked him away from the street and into the shop, asking, “Which of the sandwiches in the menu do you like most?”

“What for?”

“Just answer the question, please~”

“The one with the tartare and cheese…” He replied, eyes dreamy at the menu board, most possibly captivated by the memory of having such a treat. Beel snapped from his reverie, explaining to you why it’s his most favoured, “It’s like your human food ‘cheeseburger’!”

You nodded and ordered the exact sandwich for him, much to his surprise.

It’s like a date! You inwardly screamed, mentally giving yourself a high-five for taking advantage of this sweet opportunity.

“Let’s split up the sandwich, as thank you for buying me food…”

How sweet! The thought made you want to curl up in the floor and cry in happiness, but resisted, “Come on, let me treat you once in a while!”

You both took a seat on the less conspicuous booths of the store. As Beel ate with glee, you chatted him up, content at the moment both of you were sharing.

“Why’d you *munch* even buy me food?”

“I like you!” You answered without a sliver of a doubt, carried too much at the connection you were sharing at the time. Blinking once… twice, you realized what you’ve done.

Well, fu–

“This food sure is great,” Beel avoided looking at you and continued eating, his face noticeably red from his blushing cheeks.

Groaning in defeat, you buried your face in your hands. It’d be rude to suddenly take back what you’ve said. Stupid me, stupid, stupid–

“I thought I’m hearing things because I’m still hungry.” The ginger-haired demon explained, his hands taking yours and peeling them off from your heated face, “You’re like this sandwich, you know that?”

“W-What…?”

“It’s my favourite, just as you’re my favourite person to be with!”

BELPHEGOR

You stared at Belphegor’s sleeping face, so peaceful and at ease.

It’s hard to think of him as a demon when he’s especially languid like this.

He had invited you to watch a movie that Levi suggested, only to doze off within fifteen minutes of the production, his head perfectly placed by your lap. Deciding that the Avatar of Sloth would rather sleep than watch, you let him sleep to his heart’s content.

The moment the movie ended, you didn’t notice that your lap had fallen asleep with him. Great.

You poked his cheek, seeing if he’ll wake up. “Belphie~” You cooed, “Belphie, wake up… My thighs has fallen asleep with you~”

“Fiv.. m’nutes…” He stirred, making himself much more comfortable on your lap and on the sofa.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sighed in affection, smiling at his sleeping visage. Similar to Belphegor, you also made yourself comfortable on the sofa despite the stinging feeling by your thighs, “Alright, five more minutes, but only because I like you.”

To your surprise, Belphie spoke again, “Say that again.”

“I said you can have five more minutes, Belphie.”

“No, the second part…”

He heard that?!

You gulped, eyes avoiding his as you slowly repeated, “B-B… Because I like you.”

The raven-haired demon closed his eyes once, turning away from you, “I must be dreaming.” And within seconds, he has fallen asleep again just like that.

“No, Belphie, don’t sleep!” You stood up at his reaction to such an important confession, only to remember that he was formerly sleeping on your lap.

WHOOPS.

“Ow,” He rubbed his head after being unceremoniously thrown out of the sofa, sitting up groggily from all of the commotion, “Okay, so it’s not a dream.”

You sat beside him on the floor and rubbed his head as well, apologizing for it, “Why would think that, though?”

He looked away with a blush, “Because it’s too good to be true…”

1K notes · View notes

prorevenge · 5 years ago

Text

Coworker tried to get me fired over breast implants, so I pulled a reverse uno card.

4 years ago now, when I was 24, my mum died of breast cancer, and as both my grandmothers had also died of it I saw a specialist for a screening. I found out I had some cells in one of my breasts that could have turned cancerous at any given moment.

I was told I had a few options:

I could have regular screenings every 3 or 4 months until it does develop into cancer (I was told the risk of the cells becoming cancerous was very high due to family history) but it could also potentially never could turn so I'd just be getting these screenings for no reason

I could get a single mastectomy on the breast with the bad cells, but they'd need to keep an eye on the other one, so I'd still need regular checkups for the other breast

I could get a bilateral mastectomy and remove all of my breast tissue, basically eliminating the risk.

I went for the bilateral mastectomy. It was admittedly the most drastic option but after seeing what cancer did to my mum and grandmothers I didn't want to risk it.

I was warned about scarring but told it should be fairly minor. It wasn't and I was left with 2 huge, pink, jagged scars on either side of my chest, each about an inch long and half an inch wide, and it caused me to go into a severe depression, where it got to the stage of me not even leaving my flat because I didn't want people to see me, throwing out my mirrors, and getting physically sick looking at myself.

I went to a therapist, who suggested a plastic surgeon. The therapist said they'd never normally do that but it was clearly something I was struggling with and I might never get over it, and the therapist could see why I struggle with it. Although I'll admit the therapist did send me to ask about scar reduction. The plastic surgeon suggested a cream, a laser or implants. The cream didn't work, and the laser was both expensive and risky, so I went with the implants. My natural boobs were an F cup so I went with a slightly smaller DD. Since then my mental health has improved and I feel a lot better about the way I look. My confidence has gone up, as has my self esteem. I know I shouldn't put so much into my appearance but I wasn't exaggerating about these scars. Huge, bright pink, jagged, raised, just really awful to look at and I hated seeing myself, and they are now nicely hidden away and you can barely feel them.

In the present day, I'm 28 years old and working in an office. I'm doing a lot better than I was. My coworker, Jill, found out I'd had a boob job (but not about the cancer thing), when myself and my friend from years before the mastectomy were planning a holiday and she made a joke about me going on a plane with my implants, and Jill overheard. By the end of the day, the entire office knew I'd had a boob job, but not why, and half a dozen people confirmed Jill had told them.

Over the next few months Jill made many "jokes" and comments about my chest to coworkers when I was in earshot, at one point saying I had "more plastic than Barbie" and calling me "fake in two ways". I didn't hear this one myself but a friend in the office told me that Jill had at one point referred to me as a "sack of silicone".

IDK what her problem was exactly but at one point she mentioned the NHS so I assume Jill thought that I'd got my tits done for free on taxpayer money (I'd gotten the mastectomy on NHS but gone private for therapy and implants).

I asked her to stop more than once, but unfortunately the places I'd talked to her were places like the lift and the women's bathroom, where there weren't any cameras, and Jill just kept making comments no matter how often I asked her not to. I wouldn't say it was every single day, but I heard at least 3 comments per week for 3 months.

I hit my breaking point when me, Jill and a few other coworkers were having lunch, I referred to something as being shallow and Jill said "you'd know all about being shallow" while gesturing to my chest. I snapped.

I said "do you know why I have these? A few years ago the doctors found potentially cancerous cells in my breast tissue, I was advised to get a mastectomy and was left with huge ugly scars on my chest. I went to see a therapist who sent me to a cosmetic surgeon, who advised me to get implants to hide the scars, and I did just so I could look at myself in the mirror without crying. So maybe next time you want to judge someone for having cosmetic surgery, you should ask them why they had it first". And feeling like that was a mic drop moment I picked up my food and left.

For the rest of the day I had about 1/3 of my office come up to me and offer support, and the rest tell me that Jill was just joking around and I was being a bitch. I replied that Jill was being a bitch long before I was.

I then got an email from HR saying they wanted to talk to me the following day, and when I called for clarification they mentioned a "hostile work environment" (note: this is apparently an American term and holds little weight in England but it's what was said over the phone). I knew the person who signed off the email and I'd spoken to. Her name was Debbie, and she was Jill's friend in HR so I was fairly confident on who had reported me.

I realised that if this was already being sent to HR, I needed as much ammunition as possible, so I went about collecting my information.

As Debbie had dealt with me so far, it was safe to assume she would be the person reviewing the complaint with me, and if that was true I was fucked. However, I vaguely remembered a section on complaints that was in my contract when I first signed with the company. I flicked through the contract and there was a part in complaints section that said I was contractually allowed to request a change of reviewer if I felt my allocated reviewer was biased. It was called an "impartial overseer". I photocopied the page and highlighted that part.

Then I messaged the people who had offered their support over facebook, and said basically "HR have asked to see me. Do any of you remember Jill insulting me to your face and are you willing to write and sign something saying what you heard and when?". Not everyone was willing to help as Jill is somewhat feared in the office due to her befriending HR and management but about 20 people were willing to help me.

I guessed roughly when I'd asked Jill to stop previously (the 4 asks over the last few months, some timings were easy to guess as they'd happened on my break or when I'd first arrived at work) and I wrote them all down, along with a rough time of when the lunchroom confrontation happened and a list of names of who was there for the lunchroom confrontation.

I got to work slightly early the next morning. I went round everyone who had messaged me and most of them managed to give me a printed and signed letter (some didn't manage to write one but nbd). This isn't exact words as there's 16 letters to sum up here but the gist was:

"My name is [their name]. I work with Jill Lastname and OP. On [date] at [time] (approx), I spoke with Jill Lastname, during which she referred to OP as [quoted insult]. I felt this was inappropriate as it directly related to OP's appearance and am willing to go on record further to establish that Jill Lastname has been discussing OP in the workplace in the same manner for 3 months now, causing me discomfort and creating what I feel is a hostile work environment. Signed [their name]"

I wound up with about 16 letters, all from different people, and one of them was in the lunchroom for my conversation with Jill. Some even had bulletpointed lists of everything Jill had said to them about me or other people, as it turns out Jill has issues with a lot of people's appearances. She apparently made comments about one coworker's weight, and something antisemitic about a different coworker's nose, all of which were put in these letters. There are about 45 people in the office so while 16 wasn't a majority, it's still a decent amount. The letters weren't hugely long, most were only a paragraph, but they had all the necessary information.

I was asked to come to HR at 10am. I took the letters from coworkers, the photocopy of the page in my contract, and my dates and times in a little folder with me.

I got there and Debbie was the one overseeing the interview. She got up from her desk, ready to lead me into another room.

I immediately turned to the other HR worker that was currently there and said "so is my meeting with you, then?"

Debbie said "no, you're with me."

I replied that this wouldn't sit well with me, as "my contract states I have a right to an impartial overseer" and as I said this I took the contract page out of my folder. Debbie read it (I wouldn't let her take the paper when there was a shredder so close by) and said she could be impartial. I replied that I really didn't mean to be a pain, but I had it on good authority that the person on the other end of this complaint is her friend, and my contract does say I'm allowed an impartial overseer.

Debbie stomped off to get Supervisor. Supervisor asks how I know she can't be impartial and I tell him that I have it on good authority that the Jill, who was on the other end of this complaint, is a close friend of Debbie. He asked Debbie if this was true, to which she only replied "I can be impartial".

Supervisor took a deep breath, asked the other HR rep to come with him, and the four of us all went to review the complaint. I thanked them for being so accommodating (I was worried I'd annoyed them), Debbie took out the complaint and all 3 of them went through it with me. Debbie looked homicidal the whole time the interview was happening, as she had clearly anticipated firing me (or at least recommending me being fired).

The interview went something like this. It took like over half an hour and they kept asking me the same questions but phrased different ways so this is a really drastically condensed version.

Q: You said outside that you think Jill Lastname reported you. Why is this?

A: Jill has had an issue with me for about 3 months now

Q: Why didn't you come to us when you realised Jill had an issue?

A: I had no issue with her

Q: What issue does Jill have with you?

A: Four years ago a specialist identified potentially cancerous cells in my breast tissue. I had surgery to remove my breast tissue, thereby removing the cells and the risk. After the surgery I was left with large scars on my chest. I went to a therapist for low self esteem and depression. The therapist suggested a plastic surgeon who suggested breast implants to cover my scars. All of this is in my medical history which you have a copy of in my file and my full permission to review. Jill found out about my breast implants but didn't know about the cancer. Jill had a problem with my breast implants, and decided to communicate this problem to our coworkers.

Q: Why do you feel this is true?

A: Here's 16 signed statements all from different coworkers, all testifying that Jill told the entire office I'd had breast implants on the day she found out and has since made comments about these implants frequently. They have quotes of what Jill said to them about it and rough dates and times.

Q: Rough dates and times?

A: No one knew this would be escalated to such an extent so no one really took notes as and when it happened.

Q: What event or events do you think directly led to this complaint of harassment?

A: For me harassment began when Jill told everyone about my breast implants without my consent, but as to the complaint placed against me, it would probably be what happened at about [time] yesterday in the lunch room. Jill made a comment about me being shallow while gesturing to my breasts and I replied by giving her an abridged version of my relevant medical history and ending with a comment about the importance of getting the full story. There are cameras in the lunch room, so I'm sure you'll be able to find that conversation. I'll admit I could have handled the situation better, but after 3 months I felt I had to put my foot down. Here's a list of names of people who were also present. There were 6 people at the table, including myself and Jill. One of these people is also in those letters, and has written their account of the conversation and signed it.

Q: Had you had a conversation with Jill prior to this regarding her comments about you?

A: Several, spaced out over the last 3 months. Each time I communicated to her that I felt uncomfortable and upset with these comments she was making and would appreciate it if she were to stop.

Q: To your knowledge, was Jill made aware of your former cancer at any point in this time?

A: No. It wasn't mentioned in the conversation with my friend she overheard and I didn't tell her because frankly it's none of her business and I did not feel the need to detail my medical history to a coworker in order to avoid further sexual harassment.

Supervisor stands up and says "well I think we're done here". He shakes my hand and sends me back to my desk saying that I'd hear from them after they reviewed the evidence (letters, CCTV, medical history and anything they had already) and made a decision on the case.

I got back to my desk, pulled up my CV, and prepared to start the job search again.

About an hour goes by, then the person who wrote the letter and was there for the lunchroom conversation gets called for a meeting with HR. They come back 10ish minutes later.

The other people who were also there for the lunchroom conversation get called one by one, except Jill. All of them are gone for about 10 minutes then come back, find a coworker, and say that HR wants to see them.

Then the people who wrote letters but weren't there yesterday are also called one by one and are each gone for about 10 minutes each, some longer, some shorter. By about 3:30 it looks like everyone who wrote a letter or was there in the lunch room has been interviewed.

Then, finally, Jill gets called in. She's gone for about 30 minutes and comes back fuming. She glares at me while I work, but I ignore her.

4:30ish, Jill gets called into HR again. 5 pm rolls around, everyone is either leaving or getting ready to leave, when Jill storms back into the office. She glares at me the whole time she packs up her desk. She then starts telling anyone who will listen that I got her fired before shoving her way onto the lift.

An email comes in from HR. My case is closed.

(source) story by (/u/3240278189)

#prorevenge #by /u/3240278189 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

4K notes · View notes

meg-noel-art · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, Meg. This Is Noelle Stevenson. I came across your blog in my free time today and it pained me greatly to see a post you made calling me an abuse apologist, and I quote, “a shitty writer.” I began to cry, because I have anxiety about my work. You have truly hurt an innocent 30 or 40 year old person who wants nothing more than to write cartoons and be happy. I hope you consider your actions in the future, as I am still crying because of this. Thank you, and goodbye.

Hello ... Noelle ...

My friends call me Meg, you can call me your consequence.

First of all, I'm amazed you managed to interpret any of the things you're insinuating I called you as I don't think I've ever outwardly called you an abuse apologist...But, hey now that you're here let's talk about Adora and Catra----!

A shitty writer? You are. Idk what else to tell you. Sometimes you gotta be okay with your insert characters facing consequences and dealing with the fallout that not everyone would react to them the way you would. And when you learn that. You will be able to write some truly fascinating characters and stories. Work on that.

Innocent 30-40...? I can and will bully you, you're 28 and my peer, if anything, according to our age range, similar backgrounds, demographic, goals, etc. Oh man dude, was your life as a closeted gay, religious, white kid, so hard and confusing and made you do bad things? Same hat. We should start a club, I'd bet we'd get a lot of members. We're like the l e a s t special club.

Also 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 cry about it.

'Want nothing more to write cartoons and be happy' -- yeah, here join my OTHER club. Except wait, one of us is actually doing it and getting the ground they walk on worshipped for breaking some imaginary glass ceiling. You like r*ylo shutup.

'I hope you consider your actions' LMAO (Ash this is the best line) I play my uno reverse card, bc you dropped the ball with your responsibility as one of the (currently) few (undeservedly) prolific LGBTQ+ creators in media.

You're not welcome, also I don't forgive you, also I dislike you. Slide into my DMs for real, I just wanna talk.

#ash the fact that this isn't #even on anon #will never stop me #everyone send me noelle asks #i would like to fight them #on a DAILY basis #idk #salt #wow look #it's my:#anti noelle #asks #anti tag #ash wants me to be killed on main #but joke is on them #i yearn for death #anti//ca #anti catradora #to be safe

46 notes · View notes

quidfree · 4 years ago

Note

tdbk hurt/comfort?

writing this just made me think about my long-running theory that principal nezu is a mastermind villain who is taking out his grudge on humanity via slowly destroying the next generation of heroes bc how ELSE can you explain the amount of personal injury-lawsuits-that-never-were within UA’s supervision

anyways i would have made this w shouto injured but i feel like IGFTD already has enough of bakugou babysitting him so *reverse uno*

(definitely not at all thinking abt the latest updates of the manga aha..ha)

it’s hardly the first time shouto has seen bakugou get his ass beat. he doesn’t have midoriya’s abysmal track record, but midoriya mostly destroys himself; bakugou tends to get battered by external forces. now that he’s thinking about it he can’t think of another classmate with worse luck, except maybe mineta, but that’s more punitive justice than anything.

habit is a great deadener, or so he’s read. that may be true on a day-to-day basis, but it does nothing to diminish the gut-punch of worry when bakugou’s explosions stutter to a halt so abruptly that it makes him look up just in time to see him plummeting out of the sky, jagged shard of rock protruding through his chest.

midoriya is yelling from somewhere, panicked cry of ‘kacchan!’ turning into a furious scream midway, and shouto is skating upwards on instinct, ice solidifying beneath his feet, arms extending and pulse thudding with memories of ‘how sad, todoroki shouto’ echoing through his mind.

not so slow, this time. bakugou knocks right into him, gauntlets and all, heavy enough to knock them both off the ice; it shifts and reforms beneath them as he grapples for a better hold. somewhere above them a berserk midoriya is exploding into green light, blows breaking through the villain’s crumbling shell as the mountainside continues to fall apart; shouto’s hands are slick with what he can only hope is sweat as he rides the ice to safety.

they land roughly between the trees, rumbling from above muffled through the foliage just enough that he can hear bakugou cussing, which he has rarely been so happy to hear.

“get your damn hands off me, icyhot,” bakugou snaps, as shouto’s heartbeat slows incrementally. when their eyes meet his are uncharacteristically hazy, sweat and grime sticking his hair to his face.

shouto’s eyes lower, and his gut clenches.

“stop that,” bakugou demands, as shouto’s ears buzz. the rock has embedded itself in his abdomen, and all around it red is soaking through even the dark materials of his suit, torso slick with blood.

“bakugou...”

“i’m fine,” bakugou grits out, with unconvincing anger. somewhere distant there is a final sounding boom, and then the ground starts to shake. “worry about the damn- earthquake.”

“shit,” shouto says, under his breath, mind racing. earthquake, and mountain, and- landslide. and bakugou, with a poisoned piece of stone stuck right through him.

he rises to his knees. when he moves bakugou recoils, smacking his hands away with an alarming lack of violence.

“bakugou,” shouto says. “i’m not going to leave you behind.”

“worry about your damn self!” bakugou retorts, though his gaze flickers to the mountain above. “you’re not carrying me out of here.”

for a second, panicked frustration overwhelms him; he inhales deeply, stands.

“fine. come on. get going.”

it’s cruel, really; bakugou’s face twists, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, leaking blood as he does. he barely makes it two steps before he’s swaying violently, face gone sheet-white under the mask.

silently, shouto hoists an arm under his shoulder. bakugou, jaw clenched tight, looks away. it’s as much of a concession as he’ll get.

ice carries them upwards, over the trees, and he glances backwards to find bakugou’s warnings prescient: the mountain top has deteriorated, great chunks of rock sent spiralling downwards with increasing speed. midoriya and the others are fine, he tells himself. he can’t focus on two things at once.

what he can’t stop himself from focusing on, as they make rapid progress overhead, is the way that bakugou is sagging into his hold, dampness spreading through his suit; the pallor of his cheek and the rasping quality of his breaths. he feels faintly nauseous.

bakugou isn’t dying. not now. what a stupid, ridiculous way to die this would be- three years into UA, having survived every other ridiculous thing life has thrown their way. dying at the hands of some elemental villain, for the price of diverting his attention from his exhausted classmates.

fuck, why does this always happen to him? his fingers closing on air as dabi whisks bakugou away- his father in his grip as shigaraki pierces through bakugou right above him- it’s always like this, in his face, like fate derives some personal enjoyment out of his helplessly witnessing bakugou’s near-death experiences.

he doesn’t realise how tight his grip is getting until bakugou hisses in unwilling pain; he relaxes it a fraction, guilt sickening, as he lowers them towards the rocks. there’s enough height and distance that the landslide won’t reach them- or won’t reach them fast enough to disrupt the process, anyways.

bakugou all-but crumples as soon as they’re on firm ground, folding inwards like a house of cards, and shouto is on his knees besides him instantly, hands fumbling for his medical kit.

he’s a third year; he shouldn’t be so shaky when it comes to rescues, but his fingers are unsteady.

“i’m going to have to take that out.”

“rule one of on-site aid,” bakugou rasps. his eyes are half-lidded, torso jerking irregularly as he watches shouto move.

never remove the knife from the stab wound. “i know. but you’ve seen what these rocks do. it’s hurting you worse than the blood loss can.”

“came first on the medical test, but who’s counting,” bakugou mutters. he keeps spasming, face tight with pain, and shouto remembers his brushes with the stone- like having fire ants crawling over your skin, red-hot and vicious. to have that inside of you-

ten minutes, if you’re lucky, aizawa had said.

“i’m taking it out,” he repeats, redundantly, and wills his hands to stop shaking, ice spreading around the shard as bakugou gasps and flinches.

“fucking- get off me, you bastard, get-”

he’s freezing around the stone now, forces himself not to react to the wet sounds of ice sliding through blood and organ to wrap itself around the intruding shard. bakugou’s cursing has turned to incoherent noise, and he can’t bring himself to look up, own breathing heavy to his ears as he coils the ice like a hook, tugs softly then harder.

“fuck!” bakugou howls, as he grits his teeth and painstakingly pulls back another fragment; a defensive explosion hits him right in the side, and he pulls too hard on instinct, whole shard yanked free as bakugou screams bloody murder.

shouto falls back with a piece of rock the size of his forearm in his lap, covered in blood and tissue and ice, almost gets sick at the feel of it. instead he drops it hastily, slams an arm down over the gushing wound as his free hand grabs for the spray. top of the line hero resources; knits any wound back together, hatsume had promised, and why the hell had he trusted hatsume mei of all people with his tech? if this is one of her misses-

he sprays, blood splattering him in the face when he withdraws long enough to do so, and then keeps spraying so violently that his hand cramps, watching tissue knit itself in a disturbing parody of organs as the bleeding slows.

for a beat he just sits and stares, chest rising and falling. there is still a hole through bakugou, but it’s like it’s been half-sketched in the way it’s supposed to look, veins and muscle and what could be a kidney half-fleshed out within the empty space.

“motherfucker,” bakugou chokes out, tight, and then shoves himself half-upright just in time to throw up off the side of the rock. shouto’s hands have resumed shaking.

bakugou collapses back onto the rock, arms wobbly from the exertion, and for a second he just lies there, shouto’s pulse slowing ever so slightly as he takes in the mess they’re in, blood and guts and ice and some half-mended massacre in bakugou’s abdomen.

more than ten minutes, though. enough to get actual medical care. that has to be enough.

“todoroki,” bakugou says. shouto startles, leans over. his gaze is unfocused, hazily attentive.

“am i dying?”

it’s said matter-of-factly; instinctively his stomach turns.

“no.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i have never lied to you,” shouto retorts, intent. “you’re not dying.”

bakugou looks at him, brow furrowed deeply with effort as he blinks in frustration. can’t quite muster up the energy to concentrate, shouto assumes. it makes him look oddly like his younger self, all screwed up suspicion.

not dying, shouto tells himself, fiercely. not fucking dying.

he stomps down the emotion, but he’s lost his touch over the past three years because bakugou’s mouth twitches wryly, eyes briefly sharp.

“’f i’m not dying what’s with that look?”

“what look?”

“the fucking- hero’s crisis. failed rescue.”

“shut up,” shouto says, abruptly harsh. “that’s not- shut up. you’re not dying.”

“feel like shit though,” bakugou mutters, eyes drifting shut again.

if the roles were reversed bakugou would have said and you look like it too. but he’s not bakugou, even if he is the only other person in the class that’s as poorly equipped to play nurse; he can’t muster the normalcy to banter. he just keeps replaying bakugou’s screaming, eyes caught on the tear-tracks on his cheeks. he hadn’t even noticed him crying during.

help is coming. help has to be coming. bakugou will last until then. but he’d hate for them to find him like this.

of its own volition, his hand retrieves a sanitary wipe from the medikit. then it’s dabbing at bakugou’s face.

“the fuck are you- get off,” bakugou protests, albeit with more bewilderment than anger. shouto’s hands resolutely do not listen, wiping dutifully ahead, and at some point bakugou gives up, just lies there with confused annoyance in his frown. when his face is clean shouto folds the wipe away, sits back.

“i’m sorry i made you walk earlier.”

bakugou’s eyes flicker open, slanted red. “’s whatever.”

“it was petty of me,” shouto continues, half a sigh. “i was panicking.”

“yeah, well,” bakugou mumbles. “would have kept bitching if you hadn’t, so. for the best.”

not dying, not dying, not dying. “don’t suddenly become reasonable just because you think you’re on your deathbed.”

“fuck you,” bakugou retorts, managing a snort before it turns into a coughing fit that leaves him curled up and sweating, eyes squeezed tight with pained humiliation.

if midoriya were here, shouto thinks- but that’s stupid. he and bakugou are friends too, really. have been for much longer than bakugou would admit. he should be able to do something.

he can’t move him, though. not with the fragile hold hatsume’s gadget has on his internal organs. he’s not exactly going to kiss him better like recovery girl would. and when it comes to conversation, he’s never really had a knack for keeping bakugou placid.

he keeps thinking about all of the times he hadn’t caught him. bakugou out of reach. that sick feeling, worsening every time.

hesitantly, his hand finds bakugou’s.

“what the fuck.”

instinct should make him jerk it back, but stubbornness supersedes the urge. he winds their fingers together as bakugou lifts his head to glare at him.

“get your damn hand off me, half ‘n half.”

“no.”

bakugou tugs, hard and ineffective, falls back with an outraged glower.

“are you fucking kidding me? what is this, a k-drama?”

“i don’t know what else to do to make you feel better,” shouto retorts, nebulously self-conscious but entirely resolute. “so unless you have any better ideas i’m not letting go.”

“it’d make me feel better if you stopped touching me!” bakugou snaps, coughing. shouto ignores him, runs his thumb over his knuckles, vague sense memories of his mother coming to him as he does. had she held his hands, back then? he thinks maybe. he can’t think where else he’d have picked it up.

bakugou has stopped struggling, but has not died. shouto relaxes a fraction.

holding hands is sort of nice. bakugou’s hand is sweaty, which makes sense, but also very hot, and calloused. after a while he sort of forgets the circumstances, just starts absently playing with it, pressing his fingers into the pads of his hand. he thinks he was right about his mother. he can sort of recall the sensation of her hands in his.

“if i don’t die,” bakugou says, after a minute, sort of resigned sounding, “i’m going to kill you.”

“yeah,” shouto says, squeezing his hand. “sure.”

he wonders if bakugou’s parents held his hand a child. he thinks probably yes. he seems like the type whose parents love him a lot in spite of his attitude. that’s mostly how everyone treats him, in the end.

mitsuki bakugou looks a lot like her son. the last time he saw her she was aggressively ruffling his hair into even greater disarray, voice strident as bakugou yelled back obscenities and made no real effort to displace her.

it must be hard, shouto reflects, for a civilian parent. midoriya’s mother certainly has reason to worry. bakugou’s is probably a close second by now.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“sorry.”

“no you’re not!”

“well, if it bothers you...”

“can you just be a normal damn person for once?”

bakugou hits him when he starts messing with his hair, but he doesn’t let go of his hand.

(he also doesn’t kill shouto when he’s released from the hospital, but then shouto had sort of expected that.)

#qui ecrit #prompt #tdbk #anon #qui repond #fic #this was so non-sappy sorry anon

60 notes · View notes

mlm-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Another One Bites the... Endrega?

Gif source

Pairing: Platonic Geralt of Rivia (Game ver.) x Peter Parker (T.H. ver) Rating: Mature for violence Words: 2590 POV: Third Summary: After losing his parents, Peter makes the journey to Novigrad to live with aunt May and uncle Ben. However, the road is not without dangers. Fortunately, Peter has lady luck on his side. Note: Last of the crossover works! Also that spider got to bite Peter so often. I pulled on uno reverse card on that shit. Tags: action, fantasy, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, fight scenes, monsters and mild Witcher 3 spoilers of what happens in Novigrad

Branches cracked beneath his feet, as he ran as fast as he could through the forest. The moon illuminated the night, showing him the way through the bed of leaves that covered his vision of the night sky. Peter was unsure if he should scream for help or if that would attract even more of these spider-like creatures that chased him. Lady luck was on his side as he saw light flickering in the distance. A smile spread over his face as he put the last of his energy into getting help.

Peter screamed for help, when he approached the light. A figure with white hair that reflected the moonlight stood up from near the campfire. Yellow eyes made themselves clear in the dark and Peter knew he was saved. He ran past the man, stopping when he was behind him. The witcher grabbed his silver sword and Peter watched him slay the beasts, though not without struggle. Peter had not looked behind since he last caught a glimpse of one of those things, so only now he realised there were at least a dozen of them and the witcher struggled taking that many all at once.

The blade swung with finesse through the air, the peeking moonlight reflecting off it, until it got stained with monster blood. One of the spider-like creatures bit the witcher in the leg. He tried to shake it off as his blade slashed through the other monsters. Even Peter could tell that the witcher had to free his leg soon or it was a lost fight. The young boy looked around, trying to find a weapon, but unless he somehow could get a hold of the second sword on the wither’s back, there was none. He had to think quickly. Act quickly.

Peter lashed out and jumped the monster that had its teeth into the witcher and… gave it a taste of it’s own medicine. It let go as Peter’s teeth struck through a particularly soft patch on their body. It bucked and threw the boy off. Peter coughed, spitting out the blood that had gathered in his mouth. Head started getting fuzzy immediately. He hoped the witcher was alive. It sounded like it, but everything sounded muted, as if there was a wall between him and reality.

He heaved, the air in his lungs prickling. Vomit covered the ground below him and he coughed, clutching his chest in pain. Strong hands lifted him up and placed him against a tree. “Do not swallow. Just rinse your mouth,” a low muted voice cut its way through his panic. Peter followed the instructions, taking the water offered to him. It did not help. Then suddenly, clarity as if there was a spell casted on him. It still hurt and he still felt like he was dying, but the panic was gone, he could think clearly of what to do next.

“Listen, I could try to give you something, but it might kill you.” Peter understood. He nodded and reached out for whatever could either save or kill him. The alternative was just dying anyway. It was not hard to tell with the excruciating pain. He took the bottle, hardly looking at the red fluid, before downing it as fast as he could. More coughing. More pain. Then nothing.

---

Geralt sighed as he watched over the young man. Were it not for the boy’s foolish actions, he would have died today. The boy was sweating, his brown hair sticking to his forehead, but his face looked pale enough for him to be dead. The witcher threw another stick into the fire, trying to keep the boy that saved his life warm. At least he was not dying of hypothermia.

The fact that the stranger was not screaming from pain was a good sign, but that did not mean he would make it through the night. Night turned to day and Geralt awoke to the sound of a coughing fit. He helped the boy sit up and handed him some water. Once the boy was no longer coughing, their eyes locked. “Thank you, master witcher,” the boy spoke hoarsely.

“You are lucky to be alive. Biting an Endrega was really stupid.” The boy nodded and sat up, arms shaking. “You are also lucky to survive ingesting a witcher potion. I think you might even pull through this, kid.” He nodded again, understanding his situation. A small smile spread over his lips when he got the news he was probably going to survive. “What’s your name?”

The boy looked at him with a hazy gaze. He seemed to think very hard, before he could answer. “Peter,” he ended up saying, “sorry, my head is all fuzzy.” Geralt placed a hand on Peter’s head. It felt really hot.

“You’re running a fever. Your body is still burning through all the toxins. Where are your parents?” The boy looked down. Right. The war. Another orphan then.

“They died. I’m heading to my aunt in uh…” He paused, thinking again. “Novigrad.” Geralt huffed. This boy was probably lady luck’s own bloody son.

“That’s where I’m headed. I’ll drop you off at a healer there.” The boy thanked him over and over until he got caught in a coughing fit again. “Don’t mention it. I drop you off and we do not owe each other anything.” Peter nodded, finally shutting up.

The journey to Novigrad was a long one. Peter was weak, only getting a little better each day. He had to rest a lot, but he was good company. Geralt could see he was the type to chat his ears off, but speaking brought Peter into a coughing fit, so words were rare. Geralt learned Peter’s parents died in the Battle of White Orchard. Peter was also good with horses or at least with Roach. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the farmer’s boy, but there was something special about him too.

Peter tried to offer his mother’s ring as payment for the escort, but Geralt did not accept. By the time they closed in on the gates of Novigrad, Peter seemed to be doing well enough to get home on his own. He insisted he finished the journey on his own two legs and Geralt had business to tend to, so their ways parted at the gates. After finding Dandelion, he thought he was done in Novigrad. After all, Ciri was not there, but Geralt’s path was bound to converge with Peter’s once more.

Geralt needed coin for the journey to Skellige. There was a contract on a ‘giant, humanoid, red spider’. It apparently attacked some people. It was a menace to track down. Tracks ended on walls that even Geralt could not climb. There was no distinctive scent either. He followed the trail of thick, abnormally strong spiderwebs to a house near Oxenfurt Gate in the Bits. Downstairs was a workshop that looked untouched for a couple of weeks. Spiderwebs spooked in the corners, but none matched what he found on the buildings in other parts of the Bits.

“Anybody home?” He called out. Feet rushed over the first floor and headed to the stairs. Geralt watched as someone came down the stairs, skinny but muscular legs, followed by a lean body and then… a very familiar face.

“Geralt!” Peter exclaimed joyfully. In a flash Geralt found himself being hugged tightly by the boy. He froze, unsure what to do. “It is great to see you! Look!” Peter stepped back and did a little dance. “I’m all good and healthy!” The boy paused, then frowned. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

The witcher looked around, eyes scanning over the workshop that looked abandoned. “What happened to this workshop?” Peter’s smile disappeared. He cleared his throat and looked down.

“Uncle Ben died. It was his. I uh… meant to pick up his work, but… it’s just hard to touch his stuff.” Geralt answered with a grunt and a nod. He stepped around, careful to not touch anything. “You need anything? I can make stuff as well. Combs, mirrors, machinery components, you name it. I’ll make anything for you at half the price…”

“I’m looking for the red spider man that has been attacking people ‘round here.” Geralt was right. Peter really could talk a lot. Dandelion would love him. Peter grew awfully quiet. Geralt could hear his heart pounding rapidly. When he looked at the boy, there was no eye-contact. “Peter, if you know anything, you need to tell me. This thing could attack you too.”

Peter finally looked up, shaking his head. “No! It is not like that! I mean…” He moved around restlessly. “Spiderman saved me! He does that a lot! He attacks bandits and other bad people. He would not harm me.” Lies. Geralt could tell, but he wondered why Peter would lie about it.

“This spider man attacked some commoners.” “Maybe those commoners were attacking someone else.”

Geralt raised a brow. That was a really quick answer. “Peter, I am not asking again. What do you know?” Peter seemed to get smaller under his threatening gaze. He mumbled something that even Geralt could not hear. “Speak up.” Peter took a deep breath, before speaking in a small voice.

“I’ll lead you to Spiderman. Meet me at midnight behind the city walls, between Oxenfurt and South Gate.” “Just tell me where he is. No need to bring you into danger as well.’ “Like I said, master witcher, sir, Spiderman will not harm me or any other innocent person.” “You don’t know that.” “But I do and you will too, tonight.”

The boy fidgeted in place. He offered the witcher a cup of tea. Geralt refused and left. He had some other matters to attend to, before leaving for Skellige. It was raining that night. The moon was hardly visible, only a thin crescent hung in the sky, leaving that night’s illumination to the flickering fires from the city. Geralt’s witcher senses were triggered when he heard something behind him. Down from the wall came a figure clad in red with a mask that reminded him of one that Dandelion wore during his scheme with Sophronia. Geralt reached for his silver sword, but stopped when the figure stood before him. Even at a distance, Geralt could recognise the faint scent of that neglected workshop. His first thought was that Peter got eliminated, before he could meet Geralt, but as the spider man stood before him, he noticed a similar build, a similar height, a similar way of cowering before the witcher. “Peter?”

The figure reached for his mask and indeed, as the leather came off, there was the scared, but unnecessarily brave boy from the forest. “Hello, Geralt, sir,” the boy almost whispered. Geralt lowered his arm, sighing. “How did you climb that wall?”

Peter smiled a little and walked back to the wall. “You see, some things changed after I bit that spider thing…” “Endrega.” “That! I think it interacted with that potion you gave me.” “Gotta note that down…”

“And now I can do this!”

Peter jumped and scaled the wall while sticking to it like… a spider. Geralt stared at him, unsure of how to react. He nearly got a heart attack when Peter jumped off the wall when he was near the top. He rushed to catch the fool, but from the boy’s wrist came something that stuck to the wall and Peter hung from it, upside down, right in front of Geralt’s face. “I can also shoot webs like a spider,” the boy proudly announced. Geralt sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Peter, did you attack people?” The boy came down and nodded shamefully.

“Yes, but I only attacked bandits and some whoresons that were harassing elves! Please, Geralt, you must believe me… sir.” Geralt could tell he was honest. It was not about believing him or not.

“You need to stop. You might get hurt. The witch hunters might even want to put you on the pyre.” “Let them try.”

Geralt raised a brow. Peter stood before him, clad in red like a junior Dandelion and arms crossed like a child. He was a child, a ridiculously stupid child. “What you’re doing is dangerous and you need to stop. You don’t know what these… powers are. You’re healthy now, but you might not be for long.”

“And what about you?” Geralt raised a brow at the boy again as he walked closer. “You go around helping people with your special powers, why can’t I?” “I am trained to do this.” “Then train me.”

Geralt let out a sigh of resignation. He wanted to send Peter to Kaer Morhen, but he didn’t trust him to get there alive or even find the way. “No.” Geralt tried to walk away, but quicker than he ever saw any normal human move, Peter was in front of him, blocking the way.

“What if I can take you on in a fight. Not win, of course, but I bet I can stand against you for a minute.” “You have gone from foolish to just arrogant.” “Give me a chance! I can do more than climb walls and swing from a web… please?”

“Fine, if you survive a minute, I’ll train you, but, if I floor you within that minute, you get rid of the stupid costume and never attack anyone again, bandit or otherwise.” “Deal.”

---

Peter was afraid he might have overestimated his abilities, but all he had to do was not be floored. Fortunately they agreed to no weapons. “Time goes in now,” Geralt announced and Peter expected him to pounce right away, but it seemed the witcher was waiting as well. Peter stayed alert, his new, sharp senses noticing how slow Geralt’s heartbeat was in contrast to his own, pounding his chest like it was trying to get out.

Then finally, Geralt lunged forwards and Peter barely dodged him. He rolled over the floor and got back up with great finesse. Yellow eyes narrowed and scanned his body like it was determining the price of a horse. Peter swallowed a lump in his throat, before dodging again. For now, that was all he was doing. He knew better than to try something funny or to hope for Geralt to get exhausted. With one close call, Peter found himself behind Geralt. He took the chance to give a quick, albeit not hard, kick against the witcher’s back, before dashing backwards. They had drawn a circle on the ground, he barely stayed in it.

It ended up being the only strike Peter would give. Geralt was simply not as fast as Peter and while Peter had taken a pretty good blow to the head, he was still standing after a minute. When the time was up, a sigh left the white-haired male. “Fine, but you will have to come with me to Skellige. I still need to find Ciri.”

Peter let out the air he held in his lungs and collapsed on the ground, tired from dodging like his life had depended on it. “Your daughter, right? I’ll… have to leave aunt May for a while, but I’ll be back, right?” Geralt gave him a look that said ‘yeah, sure, maybe’ and Peter found it rather ominous, but he also trusted the man enough to keep him alive. “I’ve never been to Skellige. What is it like?”

Geralt did not spare him a look as he put his equipment back on. “Cold. We leave tomorrow at noon.”

#the witcher #the witcher 3 #peter parker #geralt of rivia #crossover #tw3 #the witcher 3 wild hunt #game geralt #tom holland #mcu #marvel #dandelion #ciri #novigrad #skellige #endrega

11 notes · View notes

salty-ironstrange-shipper · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Lift The Veil

*kind of based on this post you might remember, also on ao3

Stephen stumbled into Kamar-Taj, only narrowly avoiding breaking his skull on the floor by an apprentice sorcerer lurching forward and taking his arm.

"Master Strange?" The girl said, then, more anxiously, "Master Strange?!"

April, Stephen thought to himself, placing the voice. He tried to reassure her, but instead made an odd choking sound and blacked out. Oh well . . .

When he woke again, April was still there, only there was a Master of the Mystic Arts who specialized in healing magic beside her and they were in Stephen's bedroom.

April dabbed at Stephen's forehead with a warm towel. No one was sure if that was necessary, but it seemed the thing to do. "Are you alright, Master Strange?"

Stephen tried to sit up and bit back a scream when doing so put pressure on the stab wound in his stomach. "More or less."

April lightly pushed him back down on the bed. "Sir," she said gently, like she was speaking to a child, "you should rest now. You were badly hurt."

Stephen dropped his head on the pillow, sulking. "I don't want to rest. I am the Sorcerer Supreme, I can do what I want."

"Of course you can," April cooed.

Stephen scowled, waving away the healer. Still, April refused to leave, sitting on the bed beside his knees with her legs crossed.

Stephen sighed, but didn't send her away. Perhaps he was getting soft in his old age (a thousand years was a long time even for a sorcerer), but in truth it was a weakness he had towards some of the young sorcerers. April in particular was dear to him, being the descendant of dear Peter. More than forty generations separated her from Spider-Man, but he allowed himself to believe that he could see a bit of the wide-eyed teen he once knew in her.

Just as he was getting melancholy, April started bouncing her legs, bored. Ah, there it is. "Are you alright, April?"

". . . Yes."

It was going to be a long day.

|||

April refused to relent, and Stephen refused to sleep. Now at a stalemate, they passed the time by playing card games and idly chatting.

April placed her card. "Skip you, I go again. The color is red, and you draw four."

"Fuck," Stephen muttered before succumbing to the will of the Uno cards.

April smirked, looking down at her own cards. "Hey, Master Strange, have you always been a sorcerer?"

Stephen was old enough that none of the living sorcerers had been there when he first came to Kathmandu. Long before April's time and after Tony's death nine hundred years ago, all the information about who Doctor Stephen Strange had been was lost. Or destroyed, rather. Now few even knew who he'd been before becoming Sorcerer Supreme, and for the most part he preferred it that way. Any immortal could tell you that memories were the enemy.

So he wasn't quite sure why he said, "No."

April quirked a brow. "Where did you come from?"

He hesitated before answering. “Before I came to Kamar-Taj, I lived in New York with my husband.” He shrugged. “Fiance, at the time.”

April stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh my God — Master Strange, I had no idea you were married—”

“Widowed now,” Stephen said quietly before laying down another card.

April blinked, her cheeks heating and turning red. “I’m . . . I’m sorry—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who brought it up.” He frowned. “There really is no point of a Reverse card if you’re just playing with two people.”

They played in awkward silence for another minute before April asked, “Do you want to talk about it? Or, him, I guess?”

Then the strangest thing happened.

Stephen smiled.

“I could tell you everything about him. Who he was, how we met. The color of his eyes and the shape of his nose. I can see him right in front of me. He is more real to me than you.”

His smile was sad, and his blue-green eyes seemed to lose their light. He laid another card, and when he spoke again, this time about an envoy that needed to be sent to the Nat'hal dimension, it was clear that the conversation was over.

But April was never one to give up so easily. It was in her blood. She was ninety percent sure she was descended from Superheroes (considering her family bad the right Peter Parker in their tree and not some rando from the same time).

She spent over a week going through everything she could find about their current Sorcerer Supreme. It wasn't easy. He was a private person even by hero standards, and had been born roughly a thousand years ago. But that was right at the start of the information age, and though it meant sorting through piles of white noise and conspiracy theorist bullshit, she was able to find some old interviews and articles from around his time that referenced a Stephen Strange . . . and his husband, Tony Stark.

That was the most surprising part. Even children knew who Iron Man was, one of Earth's first and greatest protectors, who lost an arm bringing half the universe back to life and defeating the Mad Titan Thanos.

But if they knew each other, why doesn't Strange ever mention him?

If her theory was correct, then they hadn't just known each other - they'd loved each other, and had been married for almost fifty years (longer, if you counted the time Strange apparently lost to Thanos). They had children together. The memory must have been painful to him, living so long without his beloved, forced to remain on Earth and carry out his duties as Sorcerer Supreme.

Oh, Stephen . . . She'd always known that their leader carried a heavy burden, but she had no idea he'd lost so much. She wanted to do something, anything to help him . . .

And she had just the idea.

“Okay,” April said, placing the last candle and looking back at her book. “This . . . should probably work.”

There were a few days when the veils between dimensions were thin. The winter solstice was one such time. The borders had only grown weaker after centuries of attacks from aliens and other-worldly beings and. The perfect time for such a spell.

April sat in the circle of candles and crossed her legs. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her third eye opened too, and the silvery light of Oshtur poured forth into the room. She could see the dimensions laid over each other, and the things that lingered nearby. Some of them seemed almost familiar.

Her mouth moved almost unbidden as she spoke. “Oshtur Star-Eye, Mother of Agamotto, guide to sorcerors living and dead, I call upon you to find the soul I seek and lead it to me—” Her breath caught as the spirits started to take shape. Away and above Kamar-Taj, she could feel Oshtur looking upon her. “Bring me Anthony Edward Stark, Iron Man, Saviour of the Universe and Earth’s Defender, husband to the Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange, lead him here and show him to me—”

Suddenly she fell forward, the spell cut short as a breeze filled the room snuffing out all the candles. A moment later, Stephen Strange walked into her vision, knocking over the candles and using his heel to disrupt the chalk circle. When he looked at her, she flinched from his gaze. “What are you doing?!”

April shook her head, the movement slow and heavy. “I don’t . . . I . . .”

“It is the solstice, the walls between worlds are thin and weak, all sorts of things linger in the liminal spaces, waiting to break through! You didn’t even ward or purify this room, you could have invited any number of monsters and specters into this sacred place! What were you thinking, what were you even trying to do?!”

April frowned, fearing tears prickle at her eyes. “I was just . . . I was trying to find Tony for you . . .”

Stephen stared at her in shocked silence as April’s head dropped, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then he leaned down and wiped a tear away, his voice growing soft. “Go to sleep. The spell exhausted you. We’ll speak tomorrow.”

She could do nothing but obey.

The next morning, April awoke to find Stephen already in her room, meditating on a mat in the corner. He opened his eyes when she saw him. “You’re awake.”

April nodded, yawning tiredly. “What, uh . . . what happened?”

Stephen uncrossed his legs, resting his chin on one hand. Even after all this time, it was still scarred and shaking. “You attempted to summon my husband from beyond the grave, and I stopped you.”

“Oh, that sounds about right.” She frowned. “Why did you stop me?”

Stephen considered it for a moment, his blue-green eyes showing nothing. “It’s quite insulting that you think I don’t know how to summon a soul. I’ve read every book here, know every spell. I can summon ghosts as easily as most people can snap.”

“Then why . . .”

Stephen shrugged. “I did. I admit now that I wasn’t always careful. I made the same mistakes as you. But twice a year for about a century, Tony and I met and were together. And that seemed like everything that mattered.” He looked away. “But we couldn’t keep going like that. It was worse than have each other for a moment and be wrenched away again than to never see each other. And it disturbed his rest, and there’s no one who deserves to rest more than Tony.”

Despite herself, April knew she was crying again. “I’m so sorry.”

Stephen smiled sadly. “So am I.” He stood up. “But I know that one day, in my time of greatest need, Tony and I will find each other again. He’s always there for me when I need him. That will have to be enough for now.” He walked to the door, opening it slightly. “I’ll see you in my class on defensive magic later, yes?”

She swallowed past the weight in her throat. “Promise.”

Stephen nodded once and left, closing the door behind him.

#incorrect-ironstrange #ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #fanfiction #ironstrange fanfiction #ironstrange fic #don't lift the veil #from the top #sad #angst #i made myself sad #tony stark death tw #my writing #my fanfiction

170 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch59:We Only Part To Meet Again.

Intro The Time Heist worked, but at a cost. Natasha gave her life for the Soul Stone. Following a promise to make her sacrifice worth something, the Avengers continued their plan and succeeded in reversing the Snap. But along with everyone else, the biggest threat the Avengers have ever faced re-appeared.

Thanos.

Now Steve and Katie, along with the rest of their team are locked in a fearsome battle, between light and dark, life and death. Simply put, it’s a battle which they cannot afford to lose because they’re in the Endgame now…

Warnings: “Language!”

SMUT (NSFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

Ok so I hope you all like this one. I’m STILL a little pissed that Nat didn’t get a proper send off in Endgame so I hope I’ve done her justice in this one. We’re so near the end now… *cries*

They decided not to tell anyone about their news until both Natasha’s remembrance ceremony and Tony’s funerals were done. For no reason other than they didn’t want any of the attention being placed on them to detract from what the days were about- their friends and family taking time to remember together. In all fairness, it wasn’t a long time to have to wait. Natasha’s memorial was the day after with Tony’s funeral taking place 2 days post that.

The only problem was, however, it was kind of hard to keep it secret when the next morning, Katie pushed Bucky and Sam out of the way as she ran from the kitchen and emptied her stomach into the downstairs toilet.

“She ok?” Bucky asked looking at Steve as he grabbed a bottle of water for her from the fridge.

“Just nerves.” Steve said, “About today.” and before they quizzed him more he headed out into the hallway just as Katie was emerging from the bathroom. Wordlessly he handed her the bottle and gently cupped her cheek in his hand, and she smiled softly leaning into his touch.

“You were puking the last time we were on a jet together you know…” Sam quipped as she walked back into the kitchen “Maybe that says something about your flying.” Katie shot back at him, sitting down at the table.

“Nah ah, you’d eaten that dodgy chicken remember?”

Katie nodded and then Bucky gave a scoff.

“You know, you’re almost convincing.” he pointed at her, “You on the other hand…” his point moved to Steve who had reached to open the fridge, pausing as he was caught in his friend’s stare. ��Still can’t lie for shit. It’s written all over your face.” Katie and Steve exchanged a glance before they looked back to the two men who were both leaning against the counter, mugs of coffee in their hands.

“What’s he lying about?” Sam frowned, looking at Bucky. Bucky simply gave him an exasperated glance.

“It’s more likely to be dodgy sausage than chicken.” he deadpanned

“Buck!” Steve said, frowning as Katie glared at his best friend. Whilst all this was going on, Sam’s face rearranged itself into a look of comprehension and he turned to look at Katie.

“Really?” his eyes flickered from her to Steve. Before they could deny it, Jamie walked into the kitchen with Lucky, the pair of them having been in the garden with Emmy.

“When do we go see Auntie Nat-Nat’s tree?” he asked.

“Soon” Steve said, turning to his son noticing instantly the kid was filthy “Do not move from that doormat…”

Jamie stood and saluted at his father, the way Tony had taught him to do whenever he was given an order and Katie snorted a laugh. With a roll of his eyes Steve bent down and undid the laces on his sneakers. Jamie kicked them off and ran over to his momma.

“Can I wear my Captain ‘Merica top Auntie Nat-Nat got me?” he asked.

“You can wear what you want today baby.” Katie said, kissing his head “Clint’s orders. No black.”

“Kinda ironic really seeing as she spent half her life being called Black Widow.” Sam mused.

“I think that’s why Clint suggested it.” Katie said “No black widow, only Natasha Romanoff.”

At that point Emmy stepped inside holding ceramic pot which now contained a tulip plant she had dug up from her patch near the shed. “Will this be ok, you know, to plant under her tree?” “I think it’s perfect.” Katie smiled, standing up with Jamie in her arms “And so would she. She liked tulips. Right young man…” she blew a raspberry on her son’s cheek and he grinned “Shower time…” “Want me to do it?” Steve asked.

“No, I’ll take him. You can deal with these two idiots.” she said, nodding towards Sam and Bucky. She glanced back at Steve and gave him a soft smile. “Emmy, you need to get ready too honey…”

Steve watched as his family left the kitchen before he turned to look at Bucky “You are a pain in my ass, you know that?” “Tell me I’m wrong.” Bucky raised an eyebrow as Steve ran his hands over his face. He looked at his friend and then couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face.

“Yeah, she’s…we’re pregnant.”

“Fucking hell Punk!” Bucky moved to give the man a hug “That’s…that’s great news.”

“Thanks Buck.” he said, pulling back.

“Yeah nice one Cap.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand.

“Thanks, but we’re keeping it on the low for the time being.” Steve said, “We don’t wanna tell anyone till after Tony’s funeral, it just doesn’t feel right you know.”

Both men made affirmative nods and hand gestures, before Sam looked at Steve.

“How far along?”

Steve hesitated. “Well, we don’t know. It’s kinda complicated.”

“Complicated?” Bucky frowned “What’s complicated about it?”

“We lost one in the snap.” he said rubbing the back of his neck “So we’re not sure if this baby is that one come back or another one that’s…” he took a deep breath “We didn’t even think about it being a possibility, ya know? Anyway we’ve got a dating scan tomorrow so we’ll know for sure then.”

“So that time…when we were on the low…” Sam frowned “She was pregnant?”

Steve nodded.

“Not bad chicken?”

Steve shook his head.

“Dude you knocked up your Mrs whilst we were running from the Feds?”

“It wasn’t exactly planned Sam.” Steve rolled his eyes.

**** Steve watched his wife for a moment as she sat on the seat opposite him on the private Stark Jet, scribbling on a piece of paper. She was jotting down notes for Tony’s Eulogy and her brow was furrowed as she wrote her ideas down, stopping every so often to wipe a stray tear away from her eyes. He leaned over to tuck her hair behind her ear whilst asking if she needed anything and she shook her head, tapping the pen lightly against her teeth. He dropped his hand to her neck, gently squeezed in a sign of affection and stood up to go and check if Bucky need rescuing from Jamie’s incessant chattering.

“You know it doesn’t seem right, any of this.” Katie said quietly, as she looked out of the window, her pen tapping against her teeth. Steve watched her for a second before he sat back down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the small table between them. She turned to him and she sighed “The world is mourning for Tony, yet the same people who are leaving candles and wreathes and flowers outside the tower, don’t seem to give a shit about Natasha. She’s not been mentioned once in the media since the President’s address…” “Sadly, I’m not surprised.” Steve sighed “After we took down SHIELD and all her past secrets were thrown into the spotlight and, well, you know her history. It wasn’t well received. People made assumptions about her, questioned her loyalties, wrongly yes, but they did.” “It’s not fair.” Katie sniffed.

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s unfair and it’s cruel.” Steve nodded, gently reaching out for Katie’s hand. “She gave her life because she believed so firmly that we could succeed and she’s being given no recognition at all. But that’s what today is about. Those of us that did know her, and did care about her getting the chance to say goodbye properly.”

Katie smiled sadly, her fingers tangling in Steve’s as their hands lay entwined on the table

“And I think she would prefer it this way.” he continued “She was a very private person, unless she was around her friends, her family after all.”

“Yeah…” Katie said, smiling gently “Maybe you’re right.”

There was a loud yell from the other side of the jet and they both looked over to see Bucky giving Jamie a hi-five as Sam and Emmy leant back in their chairs, throwing their Uno cards onto the table in defeat. Bucky looked up and caught Steve’s eye, flashing him a small wink.

It wasn’t long before they were landing. Katie felt ridiculously queasy as the jet began to descend and no sooner was she on the concrete of the runway than she threw up to the side of the steps. Emmy gave her a suspicious look, but didn’t say anything as she made her way, her hand around Jamie’s as they followed Sam and Bucky to the waiting cars, Steve patiently hanging back for his wife to compose herself before they set off on the 30 minute or so drive to Clint’s farm.

There were hugs, hand-shakes, a few tears as the group greeted each other. Banner and Wanda had already arrived before the Rogers-Barnes-Wilson clan did and it wasn’t long until Fury and Hill walked into the large farmhouse. And then Okoye and T’Challa landed. And then Carol Danvers, Rocket, Nebula and Thor. And finally Lang, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy and Morgan. As Katie looked round as her niece shot over to hug her ‘Uncle Spangles’ she suddenly felt a warmth in her chest that where was still so much love in and amongst the grief.

They had an hour or so at the house, Jamie and Nathaniel instantly hitting it off and retreating to Nate’s room, emerging 30 minutes later each with a picture for their Auntie Nat. Katie had crouched down next to her son as he had showed her the picture of the woman with the shock of red hair holding a cookie because “she always gave me cookies Momma”

“Yeah, yeah she did.” Katie smiled, kissing his cheek.

In the mid-afternoon sun, Clint and Laura, with their 3 kids, led the way down a worn path which led to a small pond not far from the line of trees that surrounded the farm. Clint explained that Natasha liked it here, she often came to visit and stay if there was a little too much going on in her life to cope with and this was her place which was why the tree was planted here. The tree was roughly 6 ft high at the moment but was already sporting the deep red leaves they had picked it for, and they all knew that over time it would grow and expand. There was a small wooden bench underneath it, with a brass plaque which sported Natasha’s Black Widow symbol, and they had also ordered a small head stone, but that would not be available for a while.

“It’s beautiful Clint.” Katie had nodded, her hand falling to the place just underneath her throat and above her chest. “It really is.” “So…” Clint rubbed his neck “I thought, those of us that wanted to could just say a few words and…” he looked around and gave a watery smile as he took in the crowd of people “You know, seeing you all here reminds me of how Nat came into my life. No friends, no family, no connections…and absolutely no desire to change any of that.” “You go that right…” Fury muttered, drawing a few smiles and soft laughs, including a chuckle from Clint.

“Yet here she is, being celebrated and remembered by all of you, all of us, the people whose lives she’s touched and impacted and I guess, well, she did change it after all.”

Steve gave the archer a smile as he turned to look at the tree, his head bowing slightly “Nat, your last name might have been Romanoff but you’ve been part of the Barton family for as long as we can remember. I watched you break free from the horrors of your youth and learn that life didn’t have to always be painful and cruel. You worked tirelessly to build yourself up and always strived to be a better person. I hope you know that…” he paused and looked upwards, taking a deep shaky breath “you were worthy of being loved. And we did, we loved you so much, still do. Me, Laura, Coops, Lila and Nate. If it wasn’t for you my family wouldn’t be here, but whilst my heart may have pieced itself back together thanks to them coming home…there’s still a huge hole there where you used to be. And I know that Nate only met you briefly, but he’s gonna know…gonna know all about the woman he’s named after, the bravest woman I have ever known.” He reached out and wiped at his face before his hand gently touched the bark of the tree trunk. “Goodbye Nat.” At that point Laura stepped forward, her own tears trickling down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms round her husband, their kids all following suite before Nathanial turned and placed the piece of paper he was holding on the bench, Clint helping him tack it to the back part with a small pin before the stepped back into the crowd.

Almost everyone spoke. Fury and Hill went next, explaining how they had been there from the beginning and watched her as she had transformed from this lethal, master assassin into an Avenger, a leader. And whilst he may not have been so warm to her in the beginning, Fury had come to look at her as a protégée, the person who after Hill and Coulson he trusted the most. And Hill who had become a friend, one of the first people to join Natasha’s slowly expanding group of confidents in the beginning. Natasha had exceeded any expectations they had of her as a colleague and had been a fiercely loyal friend until the end.

Okoye, Nebula, Rocket and Danvers, who had only known post the world being ripped apart respected the woman who was broken and shattered but never gave up wanting to make the world a better place and continually strived to find a way to fix what Thanos had done. They had all forged a friendship with Natasha as they picked up the pieces of a shattered world and strived to keep people safe through the chaos that ensured post snap.

T’Challa, who had seen the fierce loyalty and drive that Natasha possessed first hand. “Even if that did mean she knocked me out with a hell of a sting.” he quipped, drawing chuckles from the group. Her tenacity on the battle field in Wakanda, her strive to protect not only her friends, but billions of strangers, at all costs. “An honourable trait.”

Lang who again hadn’t known her wrong but had found an ally instantly willing to work on his ludicrous Time Heist idea, without whom, “I doubt anyone would have taken me seriously, including Steve” who gave him a small smile and a shrug because it was true.

Bucky, who had tried to kill Natasha on more than one occasion, but could empathise with what she had been through more than most, simply placed his metal hand on the bark of the tree and said something in Russian, which he later explained to Steve and Katie had been a simple thank you and goodbye, not being able to think of anything else to say.

Rhodey, who had known her as long as Katie had. He had watched as she stepped up post the snap, helping Steve lead what was left of their group as they tried to help who was left and “bring peace to a world that was in turmoil”.

Pepper who had also known her as long as Katie had, thanks to her infiltration of Stark Industries. She’d become a good friend over the years, sharing a “mutual annoyance at Tony’s ridiculous antics” and with Katie and later Wanda the women had joined forces in an otherwise male and testosterone swamped Avengers Tower or Compound.

Wanda and Sam, who had both spent years on the run alongside her. She had helped train them both, fought alongside them both, and saved both their lives more times than they cared to remember. They respected her, and counted her amongst their closest friends.

Thor, he trusted her, infinitely, watching her hold her own against opponents both bigger and stronger on many an occasion. She had never once judged him for the sins of his brother, and with a large clap of lightning he had declared her the “a most noble and worthy warrior, one of the greatest I have ever seen”

Bruce, who had trusted her more than he had ever trusted anyone- “There’s a reason that lullaby never worked for anyone else, Nat” and whilst they had never gotten the chance to explore their feelings for one another, he had loved her. More than as a friend, and wanted her to know that his time away for the 2 years he had been stuck as the hulk post his forced transformation in Sokovia wasn’t her fault, despite what she had always said and thought.

Steve cleared his throat, his hand firmly grasped around Katie’s as they both stepped forward, their kids at their side. His chest was horribly tight as he took a deep breath and began to speak. “Clint’s right Nat, you were a pain in the ass. Specifically my ass for years.” he began, “Constantly laughing at me for being old, and old fashioned, trying to fix me up on dates until you realised that the person I wanted to be with just happened to be one of your best friends, which then opened up a whole world of opportunity for your sarcasm and wind ups. You were one of the bravest, kindest people I have ever fought alongside, and we both knew that when we made you godmother to Jamie you’d guide him in the best way you could, even if you did take him for the day and fill him with enough e-numbers to make him bounce of the walls when you returned him.”

He sniffed slightly and Katie lay her head against his shoulder, fighting her own tears “People often pointed to me as the leader of the Avengers, but I wasn’t. Not really. You were the one that held us all together on more than one occasion, especially when me and Tony were ready to rip each other’s heads off. Your ability to see the best in people is something I can only hope to emulate, and we’re going to miss you. We all are. More than you will ever know.” Katie could see he was close to breaking, just as Clint had done.

“Emmy, Jamie why don’t you put your picture and your plant on the bench?” she said gently, “Clint…”

Clint nodded and stepped forward with them both as she took the opportunity to wrap her arms around Steve, pulling him in close.

“I drawed this for you.” She heard Jamie say as Clint helped him tack his photo next to Nathaniel’s before he promised Emmy he would plant the tulips in the ground once her headstone was there.

A silence fell before Katie stepped back and looked up at Steve who gave her a not to assure her he was ok. Then, realising it was her turn she turned to the tree and looked at the shock of red leaves, smiling softly.

“There’s nothing I can say that hasn’t already been said.” Katie smiled gently “You were an amazing person, inside and out. I’ll never forget how you helped me pick an outfit for my first date with Steve and calmed me down despite the nerves that were flooding my entire system.”

“You never told me that.” Steve said, causing the crowd around them to laugh.

“Oh it’s true.” Katie nodded with a smile before she turned back to the tree “All the ribbings and joking you would do, trying to get the ‘inside details’ as you called them on Captain America…but that’s what friends do right? And we were friends, best friends. I knew I wanted to be your friend the first time I met you when you were undercover in Stark Industries and your floored Happy after Tony insisted you ‘go a few rounds’”

“Thanks Kiddo…” Happy grumbled, drawing more chuckles.

“You helped us so much when Jamie was a baby, taking him when you could see things were getting too much for me as a new mum, telling me that it was normal to feel a little overwhelmed when I simply thought I was doing a bad job…we couldn’t have done it without you and there’s no better friend I could have had by my side through everything we’ve been through together and done over the past 13 years.”

Katie looked up at the sky, her tears falling now “You know, on the jet on the way over me and Steve talked about how cruel it was that you’re not getting the recognition for your part in bringing everyone back that you deserve, but then I see everyone here and…” she choked a little on her words and felt Steve’s arm slide around her waist “You know, it might not be a public mourning but this, this is the evidence that you were loved, and the people that mattered care and will always care and be thankful that you gave your life so that everyone who’s here could live theirs. You were so loved Nat, you always will be…and I can only hope you knew and felt that.”

With that her tears began to fall thickly and she turned to Steve, his arms wrapping around her, his large, strong but ever so gently hands held her close to him, one on the base of her back, the other on her head.

There was a soft breeze which ruffled the leaves of the trees in the otherwise completely calm clearing they were in and no one spoke for a moment, until Clint stated that there were drinks and food waiting at the house. With a last glance over her shoulder at Nat’s tree, Katie allowed Steve to guide her down the path, every so often pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

With drinks and full plates, the guests spilled out into grounds of the Barton farm as animated chat began on and around the porch. Katie stuck to apple juice topped up with lemonade in a wine glass, and when Steve had subtly arched an eyebrow in question at the fact she was drinking she’d flicked him off and shook her head gently causing him to snigger a little.

“So…” Pepper sidled up to her, looking at her “When are you due?”

“What?” Katie asked, “I don’t know what you’re-.”

“I know that’s not wine.” Pepper said gently, cutting her off “And I know that you lost a baby in the snap…maybe I’m putting 2 and 2 together here…”

Katie sighed and looked at her sister-in-law. “We only found out last night, we didn’t wanna say anything…not until the memorials and funerals are over. It doesn’t feel right, to be happy about it all…even though I can’t help it…” “Are you kidding me?” Pepper smiled “Katie, its great news. Something positive to look forward to…”

“Literally” Katie mumbled causing Pepper to grin.

“I knew it!” Emmy’s voice said and Katie groaned and turned to face her “Your baby…it came back?”

“Shhhh” Katie said “Look, we haven’t told anyone yet…”

“Why not?” She demanded

“Because we don’t know how far along we are or…” Katie pinched the bridge of her nose “just not yet Emmy ok? And this isn’t how we wanted you to find out. We were gonna tell you tomorrow after the scan.”

Emmy cocked her head to one side and shrugged, draining the glass of ice tea she was holding before she smiled and wrapped her arms round her mother, the 15 year old now being almost as tall as she was. “I think it’s great.” Katie smiled and lay her head against her daughters, squeezing her back “Yeah, yeah it is.”

***** Katie was exhausted after the day’s events and so, once the kids were settled she had left the men drinking in the kitchen and headed for a bath. Steve and Bucky had been drinking the Asgardian stuff all afternoon thanks to Thor bringing a load with him to Clint’s and both the soldiers had been feeling the effects before they headed home, and still were thanks to the stash Steve had in the cabinet and beer fridge.

“You know…” Sam said, leaning back in his chair “When you find out how far gone Katie is tomorrow, we’re gonna be able to figure out a point of conception.” “Yeah that’s generally how it works.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Well you better not have made that baby on my plane.”

“We never had sex on the jet.” Steve sighed.

“No, just dirty old warehouses in the middle of a mission.” Sam shot back.

“Did you have to bring that up?” Steve said exasperatedly.

“Oh now this I gotta hear…” Bucky grinned and turned to look at Sam.

“They left their comms on.” Sam mumbled “Trust me you don’t gotta…”

Bucky gave a loud bark of a laugh as Steve groaned.

“We just got caught up and…” he suddenly stopped, deciding he didn’t have to explain himself. Why the fuck should he? “You know what, I don’t care, have you seen her? I’d bang her every second of the day if I could, she’s fucking gorgeous…”

“Aww thanks baby, but 5 times in one night was quite enough thanks.” Katie said and all 3 men whipped round to face her as she quirked an eyebrow smirking, leaning in the doorway dressed as usual in a pair of shorts and one of his shirts “It was one hell of a wedding night.”

“5 times?” Sam looked at Steve who flushed bright red, but couldn’t help but feel slightly smug.

“And that’s how many times we did it…” she headed to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, before she turned and winked at Steve “Not how many times he made me see stars.”

Sam gave a loud laugh as Bucky grinned, a dirty snigger escaping from his mouth.

“I think I liked it better when you hated each other.” Steve said, glaring at them.

“Aww they picking on you baby?” Katie asked, sliding her arms round his neck from behind. He nodded, his hands rubbing over her forearms as they locked at the front of his chest.

“Big time.” he pouted.

“Come to bed and I’ll make it better.” she whispered into his ear and he turned as she straightened up and headed back out of the room. “Night boys.”

There was a pause as Steve looked at Bucky who was chuckling to himself, clearly having overheard.

“I’m gonna…” he said, and with that he drained his beer, stood up and headed after her.

Bucky eyed the bottle of alcohol in his hand before he turned to Sam. “Wanna go for a walk, find a bar? I’m in the mood for exploring my old neighbourhood a little.”

“Damned straight.” Sam nodded, standing up “The night is young Frosty…unlike you.”

“Fuck off.” Bucky said, grabbing his jacket and smiling as he felt the leather in his flesh hand.

“Buck, you got a sec?” Katie asked, just before they were about to leave for the airfield.

Bucky paused and looked at Steve who simply gave him a smile “She’s got something for you.” he said, ushering the kids down the hall with easy commands and large hands.

Bucky made his way into the living room and his mouth turned into a smile as Katie held out his leather jacket, the one he had wrapped her in when he pulled her from the Hydra base in La Ronde what felt like a life time ago.

“I believe this is yours.” she smiled at him.

“You kept it?” he said gently.

“Of course I did. I just never had chance to give it you back until now.”

He took it from her, gently running his hand over the collar.

“I also never got chance to thank you for that day, what you did.”

“Anyone would have done the same…” he shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck in an action that reminded her very much of Steve.

“You sure they would?” she asked “You headed deep into a base full of people who had once hurt you.” she looked at him “Because someone was screaming for help. Someone…and you had no idea it was me. And even if you did, you didn’t know me. Not really.”

“No but I knew what those bastards were capable of.” he said, eyeing her gently “I wouldn’t ever leave anyone to suffer at their hands. I just wish I’d gotten there sooner…”

“Did Steve tell you what they did?” She asked gently.

“He doesn’t need to.” Bucky looked down “Like I said, I know what they’re, what they were capable of.” “You’re a good man James Barnes.” She gave him a soft smile and then stepped forward to give him a hug. “You saved my life. And for that I’ll always be grateful, and so will Steve.”

Bucky smiled slightly as she slipped on the jacket and headed after Sam as they gently left the house, the door closing behind them.

Upstairs, Steve’s hands were already all over his wife, gentle, strong, loving as he softly caressed her stomach, the place his baby was growing. He nuzzled into her neck as she preened at his touch, arching her back. She moved slightly so he could pull the shirt over her head before he gently took her face in his hands, thumbs skating over her cheekbones.

“I hope it’s a girl.” he said gently, dropping a kiss to her lips “And she looks just like her momma.”

“Charmer.” she grinned as he kissed her again, the kiss growing urgent, Steve flicking his tongue over his wife’s lips before he moved to gently trail his mouth down her neck to the spot in between her collar bone, giving it a gentle nip and a suck. It was a well-practiced dance between the pair of them. After 10 years of being with one another they both knew the spots to hit, the places to touch, the parts to tease that would undo the other. It was a familiarity, but one that would never get old. Steve would never tire of the way her finger tips trailed down his back, nails gently biting his skin as she made those delectable noises by his ear. Katie would never tire of the way he would softly trail every curve of her body, his hands and strong arms cradling her as he lavished affection on her that drove into her very soul, his mouth gently nipping at her neck, his gentle praises that made her keen with affection.

“I love you baby girl, you’re so good to me, so good…” The soft sheets of the bed rustled around them as Steve gently rocked into his wife, causing her to sigh and lay her head back, gazing up at him with a love and lust so deep it almost hurt him to see. He had never been worthy of this love, and never would be. But all he could do was love her back, the way he did, with every single breath he had.

His movements were slow, his hand gently moved to hook her leg around him, finding a deeper seat as he rocked forwards and back again and again, driving deep against her spot as her hands hooked around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her, deeply, softly as she moaned into his mouth.

“Come on baby…” he said gently, his lips moving to her neck “Atta girl…come on…”

Her back arched and her nails dug into the skin of his biceps as she leaned forward slightly, burying her head into the crook of his shoulder to muffle her cries as she came, tightening around him. He upped his pace, ever so slightly, chasing his own release and he came, his lips pressed to hers, a deep, satisfied moan bubbling from his throat into her mouth as his hips stuttered and he rest his forehead against hers, gathering his breath. He suddenly realised he was led on top of her, his baby in her stomach and he went to move but she caught him softly, her hands straying to his shoulders as she smiled at him, her hands gently moving to rake up through his hair as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth before she nipped his lip and he practically growled at her.

“Keep doing that…” he muttered “And I’ll be hard again in about 5 seconds flat.” “I’m counting on it…”she smirked, kissing him again.

*****

“I’m sorry, say that again?” Katie looked at Dr Kellet. The woman smiled and glanced back at her.

“10 weeks.” she nodded “Give or take. Which makes your due date…the 1st June”

Katie glanced at Steve who was frowning and she knew instantly what was bothering him. He was concerned about the fact she had been pregnant in the fight, and was worried that the snap would have done some lasting damage. Katie wasn’t as concerned, for some inexplicable reason she knew everything was ok ans had instead diverted his attention to researching second pregnancies… which he had done with gusto.

The kids were in bed, Bucky and Sam were…actually, Katie had no idea where they were, not that it mattered, they were grown up men. They were led on the couch, Katie down one side of the L shape, Steve on the other with his head in his wife’s lap as he glanced at the screen on his phone

“It says here that you should feel them move sooner than the first time because you know what they feel like…” he said, grinning up at her “Wonder if that means I’ll feel them sooner too?” Katie shrugged, smiling as she ran her hand through Steve’s hair. “No idea.”

“And you’ll carry it lower.” he said, ignoring her completely. “Which according to this is a good thing as you’ll breathe easier and eat much more comfortably than you did last time. Although you might be doing the whole constant needing to pee thing sooner…but on the plus side labour is faster.” “Oh joy.” Katie sighed, her nails scratching his scalp slightly.

“And it says here you’re likely to start showing sooner.” he said, a huge grin spreading across his face “I can’t wait!”

“Sooner?” Katie scoffed “Baby, I was only 14 weeks last time when I started showing.” “Yeah but like you said it was only us that noticed really.” he said, shifting slightly so that he was led on his stomach. His head crept under her T-shirt and his nose gently skimmed her lower belly. “To everyone else it just looked like you’d eaten too many cheeseburgers…” Katie nipped his arm causing him to yelp out a laugh.

“Are you sure everything is ok?” Steve asked, “Because well, the snap and…”

Dr Kellet smiled and nodded “Your baby is perfectly healthy and normal, everything is perfect.”

Steve nodded, the worry he had instantly felt ebbing from his system. Katie gently laced her fingers between his and glanced back at the screen.

“10 weeks…” she sighed “How on Earth did I not notice I was that far gone?”

Steve gently kissed the back of her hand. “Honey it doesn’t matter, don’t think on it. Don’t think on any of it.”

“I’ll get you a few copies of the photo.” Dr Kellet nodded.

“Have you had many others in, like this I mean?” Katie asked as the Doctor wiped the cold gel off her stomach “I mean, that have had babies back or…” “You’re the 6th one I’ve seen since everyone came back.” she smiled “Who knew?”

“Could be problematic…” Katie mused “I mean like, what if they are already pregnant again, or like, I dunno, dead against having kids now or…” “Katie…” Steve chuckled “Shut up.”

Armed with the two scan photos they headed home and were greeted by an excited Jamie who dragged the pair of them into the living room where he had been building a rocket out of lego with Bucky’s help.

“Everything ok?” Sam looked up from where he as prodding at Katie’s tablet, reading the news.

“Yeah…” Katie smiled, and she looked at Steve “10 weeks.”

“10 weeks…” Sam mumbled, and then he did the same math they had done in the car and a huge shit eating grin crossed his face “So it was that time on the mission?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve grumbled “We worked it out.”

“Funny really.” Katie smirked “Both of them were made up against a wall. Turns out Captain America is better at it than Steve Rogers.” Steve let out a sigh and he shot his wife a filthy look as both Bucky and Sam roared with laughed.

“Better at what?” Jamie asked, looking up at her.

“We’ll give you a minute…” Bucky said, standing up as he headed into the kitchen, followed by Sam, both passing Emmy who was returning with a drink for her and Jamie.

“Come here…” Katie said, settling on the couch and patting the seat next to her. Jamie scrambled up and ran over, jumping up besides her. Steve sat on the other side of him, and Emmy perched on the corner cushion. Katie looked over at Steve who smiled and turned so he was facing his son slightly.

“We have some news buddy.” he said, gently running his hand over Jamie’s head “You’re mom’s gonna have another baby.” “You’re gonna be a big brother.” Katie said and he turned to look up at her, his eyes wide.

“A baby?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He frowned slightly before he looked back at his dad “But why?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, there was not real way to explain that one to their youngest. Not yet anyway. “Well, I…” “Because we’re a family.” Emmy said, smiling “It’s what you do.”

“Oh.” Jamie said, and Steve shot his daughter a smile.

“When is it gonna be here?”

“Not till early next year.” Katie smiled.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We dunno yet pal.” Steve said.

“I hope it’s a boy.” Jamie said decisively “But I suppose it won’t matter.”

Katie smiled at Steve before Jamie quipped up again “But I’m not sharing my room.”

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes

60 notes · View notes